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dreaming-medium · 5 months

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Stray Kids Kinktober Day 10

Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist

Praise Kink - Hyunjin

Word Count: 11.7K

Summary: As a lead detective in the police department, you've been assigned to solve a serial killer case, but you've hit a point where you can no longer work on the case by yourself. Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department and your sworn rival, is assigned as your partner.

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You have officially run out of red string.

The cork board in the conference room doesn’t have any more open spaces for new leads or clues. You can’t even see the brown of the board anymore.

Instead of whittling information down, you’ve only come up with more suspects for the case.

It’s better than the case going cold, sure, but it feels like you’re getting further and further from actually solving the damn thing.

It also doesn’t help that you not only have Chief Bang breathing down your neck, but the entire city as well. You understand, really, everyone wants a killer to be caught.

But these sort of things take time.

And they usually don’t have a million and thirty leads. Typically, you were lucky to have one.

Everyone in the city has a tip. And you have to check each and every single one.

Three sharp knocks draw your exhausted attention away from the board.

“Come in!” You call out.

The door clicks open and dress shoes click on the floor.

“I think you’re going to need another cork board soon, Detective.”

Your mood curdles like milk.

“What do you want, Hwang?”

Hwang Hyunjin, the department’s top detective and your least favorite person in the world.

Every case he touches is solved. Every last one of them. But maybe— just maybe— it’s because he gets to pick and choose which ones he’s assigned to.

The golden child of the police department. The biggest, cockiest pain in the ass you’ve ever met.

He clicks his tongue and walks up to the conference table you’re leaning against.

“I have a whole new stack of tips for you.”

The sound of a thick stack of papers hits the table, you cringe.

You haven’t even finished going through the last stack.

“And I am once again humbly offering my assistance on this case.”

You look over at him for the first time tonight. His long black hair is pulled back with a few strands dangling in front of his face.

He wears a pressed dress shirt, black tie, black vest, and slacks.

Truly, it looks like he popped off a magazine cover and you hate it.

“And I am humbly declining. I can handle this on my own, thank you.”

Your own heels click along the floor as you come around the conference table to sit down in front of the first stack of papers.

Hyunjin shoves his hands in his pockets and meanders closer to the cork board.

He looks up and down all the different leads, the ever expanding list of suspects, murder weapons, locations. He’s silent for a long moment.

The only sound in the room is the clock ticking on the wall.

What time is it anyway? You’ve been here since 4 AM when a call came in about another victim. The bags under your eyes surely look like bruises at this point.

Since you started on this case two months ago there hasn’t been a single night where you’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep.

Words are blending together on the paper. Is the sun up?

Warily, you turn and eye Hyunjin, who’s still staring at the cork board. His head cocks to the side as he studies all the different clues littering the surface.

He takes a deep breath and turns to look at you. You point an accusatory finger at him.

“No! No, no. You’re not coming in here and solving my case that I’ve been working on for months!”

His mouth shuts, a smirk appears.

Oh, you want to smack it off his face.

“I was only going to say—“

“No! Nothing! I do not need your help! Get out of here!” You shoo him away.

“L/N—“ he tries again.

“Shut it!”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes and sucks his teeth while making his way to the door.

You glare daggers into the back of his head, praying that a ceiling tile will miraculously fall and crush him.

He grabs the door handle and walks into the hallway. Right before the door closes, he peeks his head in through the crack.

“The killer is ambidextrous,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

A frustrated, muted scream tears from your throat and you hurl the nearest object— which happens to be a metal cup full of pens and pencils— at the door.

It shuts before the cup makes contact.

Hyunjin’s laugh comes through the closed door and it only makes your blood boil more.

You slam your head down onto the wood desk.

“Of course he’s ambidextrous.”

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“Detective L/N,” Chief Bang’s head pokes into the conference room. “Can I see you in my office please?”

You haven’t gone home yet. You’re in the same clothes as yesterday except now they’re more wrinkled.

Nodding, you put down your pen and tell your chief you’ll be there in a minute.

He hums and leaves the room.

You rub the heels of your palms into your eyes to try and get the exhaustion out of them.

About 100 ounces of coffee is flowing through your body but it’s doing nothing to wake you up, all it’s doing is increasing your heart rate.

To anyone else who wanders through your police department, they might think you’ve escaped the morgue.

The walk to Chief Bang’s office was short.

As soon as you step inside, your heart sinks.

The chief sits behind his desk, but that’s not why your stomach turns.

Hyunjin takes up one of the chairs, another freshly pressed suit on his body.

The man is flawless and it makes you want to become a suspect for one of your cases.

“Take a seat, detective.” Chief Bang motions to the other empty chair.

Hyunjin looks up at you, arms crossed over his chest. A smug smirk pulls on his lips as he takes in your disheveled appearance.

You tongue your cheek for a moment and flip your hair over your shoulder before sitting down. Your fingers iron out deep wrinkles in your pencil skirt.

You try to maintain some level of pride. It’s comical, really.

“Now, I’ll cut right to the chase here, Y/N, it’s not that I don’t trust your abilities as a detective, I do.”

You deflate.

“But this case is becoming too much for one person.”

Your jaw clenches.

So badly you want to refute that claim, to tell Chief Bang that you have it handled, it’s no big deal. But that’s a lie and you both know it.

And the smug asshole next to you definitely knows it.

“Detective Hwang has kindly offered his assistance on the case, so I’m assigning him as your partner on this.”

You think for a moment. “Can I get a different partner? I think Detective Kim just closed his last case, meaning he’s available to help.”

“Detective Kim started a new case this morning.”

“Detective Lee?”

“Busy.”

“Officer Yang?”

“He’s not even a detective.”

“What about Detective Seo?”

Chief Bang stays silent, deadpan eyes watch you. He cocks his head to the side.

You sink back in the chair.

“I specialize in homicide cases, L/N.” Hyunjin pipes up from next to you. “I’m the best one for the case and you know it.”

“Zip it, Hwang.”

Hyunjin scoffs.

Chief Bang rolls his eyes, his patience obviously wearing thin. “Y/N, I’m going to need you to swallow your pride for the sake of the city. There’s a murderer on the loose, remember? You’re my top detectives, it would be stupid not to partner you together.”

You can’t meet his eyes, you look off to the side, crossing your arms over your chest. Anxiously, your leg begins to bounce.

“Put your personal feelings aside, Y/N.”

Silence falls over the room. Both of the men wait for you.

It really doesn’t feel like you have a choice, here. Obviously, you don’t.

“Fine.”

“Great!” Hyunjin taps his hands on the arms of the chair and then pops up. “I’m going to need access to all the files you’ve been looking at these past two months as well as the extra key to the conference room.”

He grabs his trench coat off the back of the chair.

“I’ll also need you to catch me up to speed on the latest tips from civilians; you did have time to read those last night, right? Additionally, I think we should rearrange our hours so that we’re on duty together until this is solved.”

He makes his way towards the door.

“Come on, L/N! We’ll discuss over coffee.”

You stare at Chief Bang. He offers you a slightly amused, slightly sympathetic smile.

“Best of luck, detectives.”

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The hot mug rests between both of your shaky hands. Hyunjin sat across from you in a large diner booth.

Files littered the entirety of the top of the table. It’s all things you’ve seen before and practically have memorized by now.

You explained everything you knew to him from the beginning, sparing no detail.

College girls were all found murdered in their dorms. No security footage of anyone going in or out of the building that doesn’t belong there.

Each victim is about two weeks apart.

A half eaten fruit cup sits next to your coffee. ‘Fruit cup’ is a loose term since more than half of it was honeydew melon.

Why can’t they just throw a few strawberries in there? Slice up a banana or toss a few blueberries in? They already have the fruit in the back for the pancakes, it would be so easy to—

“I don’t think this victim is from the same killer.”

Your head snaps up and you glare at Hyunjin. “Who?”

He slides the file across the table to you. “Andrea Bowman. She doesn’t fit the same profile as the other victims. All the others were blonde, Andrea has brown hair.”

You sip at your coffee, glazed eyes scanning the file. You’re simply too tired to keep up the anger.

“I had thought the same thing at first. But according to the coroner, her time of death would put her as the first victim of the killer, first victims of serial killers tend to not fit the profile of the rest since it’s the first taste.”

Her autopsy stares up at you.

“Plus, everything else is consistent with the rest, bruised wrists and ankles and a slit throat. They’re all college aged girls who went to the local community college.”

You slide the crime scene photos around, taking in all the details.

“Maybe she wasn’t his victim.” One of her school photos peeks out from the bottom of the stack, you pick it up and look at it solemnly. “But something tells me she was his first.”

Hyunjin watches you closely, any rebuttal he had died on the tip of his tongue.

Plates clatter in the kitchen.

Your nose scrunches and you pack away Andrea’s file.

“You said they all go to the same school?”

“Yeah, the community college.”

“Did they all study the same thing?”

You shake your head, taking another sip of coffee. “Nope, all different fields of study, all different extracurriculars. They didn’t even live in the same dorm building.”

Hyunjin leans back against the booth and picks up his iced coffee, taking a long sip while staring out the window.

Your fingers run through your hair. “I requested their transcripts and class schedules from every year but I’m waiting on all those requests to process. With how slow the registrar’s office is taking you would swear they didn’t want this case solved.”

“Red tape always gets in the way.” Hyunjin reaches down in his pocket and takes his phone out, tapping a few buttons and then holding it up to his ear.

You cock an eyebrow at him, he only holds up a finger at you. You scoff.

“Dianne? Hi, it’s Hyunjin!… I’m doing so well, and you? … That’s great to hear! … Yes, yes those homemade cookies were to die for.”

Your mouth falls open a bit. Who in the hell was he talking to? Homemade cookies?

Throwing your hands up in front of your face, you give him a flabbergasted look.

He narrows his eyes at you and gives you a look that says ‘be quiet’.

“Listen, I was actually calling to cash in a favor, I have a list of students I need transcripts and schedules of for a case. … I can email it over to you, it’s for the— … yes, yes that one.”

You slow blink at him. Does he have a contact at the registrar’s office? Of course he does, why wouldn’t he have one?

The golden child strikes again.

“You’re a darling, Dianne, thank you. I’ll send it to you asap. … of course, say hello to Rob for me. Bye!”

He hangs up and puts his phone back on the table.

Hyunjin takes one look at your face and shrugs. “What? I helped her with a personal matter when I was a P.I.”

If you roll your eyes anymore, they’ll go into the back of your head.

“So do you have a list—“

You interrupt him. “Yeah.”

“Can you—“

“Mhmm.”

You finish your coffee and reach into your purse, digging out a ten dollar bill and tossing it onto the table.

“Where are you going?” He asks you.

“Home,” you respond simply while shuffling out of the booth. “I haven’t slept since Monday.”

Hyunjin looks down at the various files on the table. “What about the list?”

You move the files around and pull out one of the papers and place it in front of him.

“It’s right here. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hwang.”

“Tomorrow? But what about—“

“If Dianne gets the list back to you, just forward it to me. I’ll look at it when I wake up.” Your voice is full of venom.

“I really think we should look at it together.” His eyes narrow. “We’re partners on this, remember?”

“As if you would even need my help,” you spit out. “By the time I come in tomorrow, you’ll probably have the entire case solved, the perp arrested, and all the paperwork done before I even pour my coffee.”

The more you talk, the more your anger levels rise. You lean over him in the booth, one of your hands on the back of the seat to keep you balanced.

Hyunjin’s eyes widen and he leans back as you go forward.

“The golden boy will strike again, solving a case that I’ve been working on for months and getting all the credit. Because that’s just how good you are. Mr. Perfect. Everything about you is just amazing.”

He gulps and shifts around. A red tint creeps up on his face.

And for the first time since you met him, Hwang Hyunjin is speechless. His mouth opens to say something several times but no sound comes out.

“Now. If you’ll excuse me.” You stand back up and turn on a heel, leaving the diner and a very flustered detective behind.

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Knock after knock after knock after knock bangs on your apartment door.

You’re not sure of how long whoever’s been knocking has been at it, but it takes you a solid thirty seconds to wake up fully. You had peacefully drifted into a very deep sleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

The entire bedroom is pitch black, the sun no longer in the sky. The clock on your nightstand displays that it’s around 1 AM.

“What the fuck?” You slur out. It’s so hard to open your eyes right now.

The knocking persists.

With all the grace of a drunken newborn deer, you slither out of bed and make your way to your front door.

You flip on a light on your way there.

Staring through the peephole, a frown pulls at your face as soon as you see who’s banging on your door at this ungodly hour.

You rip the door open, startling Hyunjin. His hand still hangs in the air when you open it.

“Finally!” He shoves past you and into your apartment.

“No, please, come on in.” You growl and shut the door, securing all the locks in place again.

Behind you, you hear him slam a stack of papers onto your kitchen island.

“I forwarded you the transcripts hours ago but you didn’t answer.”

“I told you I would look at them when I woke up.”

He takes in your disheveled appearance with judging eyes. Your hair was all frizzy and out of place, a loose t-shirt hung off one shoulder and was so big you couldn’t see the shorts underneath.

His Adam’s Apple bobs with a swallow.

It was obvious he wasn’t used to seeing you in such a relaxed state. He was still wearing his dress pants from earlier, but he only had a dress shirt on with his trench coat over the top.

“You’re awake now, aren’t you?” He looks back down at the stack of files and opens them up, spreading papers everywhere.

You come up to the table and look down at everything.

Semesters of different class schedules stare back at you. Some have highlighted portions, others are still blank. He seems to have given up in the middle of doing it himself, opting to bring it here.

You tongue your cheek, looking over what you can see so far.

It’s going to be a long night.

“I’ll make coffee.”

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Hours have passed, the sleepiness and weariness of being woken up has been replaced by the delightful thrum of caffeine in your veins.

After about a half an hour of going through the transcripts, you quietly asked Hyunjin if he was alright with you playing music softly.

He stared at you with wide eyes, “Ah, yeah, of course, that’s fine.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m just… not used to you asking for permission before doing something.”

Grumbling, you rolled your eyes and picked your phone up to scroll through playlists. You settled on a calmer one full of music from artists like Lord Huron and Tom Rosenthal.

Since then the two of you have been silently going through each schedule.

Biting the end of the highlighter absentmindedly, you study the class schedule.

“I’m only seeing one similarity.” You say out loud. Hyunjin looks up. “This one class, it’s a gen ed Physics class. But each of these girls took it, all at different times though.”

“Which class?”

“PHYS 100. Same Professor– Dr. Furon.”

“Do you think we should bring the professor in for questioning?” he asks.

“Couldn’t hurt. Right now he’s the only common denominator. Is it anywhere on your transcript?”

Hyunjin flips through the pages. “Yep, right here, her freshman spring semester back in 2020.”

You pull out a sticky note and write down that info.

“Can you go through each one and tell me when they took the course?”

Hyunjin gathers all the stapled packets of papers up. “Yeah.”

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You and Hyunjin stood shoulder to shoulder looking through the one way glass.

A near ninety year old man sat on the other side.

“So,” Hyunjin says to break the silence.

“So.”

“It can’t be him.”

“Obviously.”

Another long moment of silence.

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Do you want to question him or should I?”

You sigh, watching as the professor fidgets with a loose string on his sweater sleeve. The officers had completely forgone the handcuffs, allowing him to sit at the table freely.

They also rolled in a comfier chair and gave him a cup of coffee.

“My case. I’ll do it.”

“ Our case.”

“Shut it, Hwang.”

You make your way into the interrogation room with a notepad tucked under your arm.

The professor looks up as soon as you open the door. He shakily stands up from his seat with proper manners.

You smile gently. “Dr. Furon, thank you so much for taking the time to come down.”

Both of you shake hands before sitting down. His grip is not firm whatsoever.

Arthritis.

“Oh, it’s no matter. Happy to be of help.”

You place the notepad down and scoot your chair in. “I’ll get right to it since I can see you’ll be our best help here. When analyzing the list of victims, we saw that each of them had taken your class before. It’s a small lead, I know, but it’s too much to sweep under the rug.”

He nods, listening carefully. He blanches and leans back. “I didn’t realize I had each of them. There are so many students in each section, there’s not enough time to learn names.”

He shakes his head.

“I had recognized a few in the paper, but I try not to do too much digging, it hurts too much to look into. I don’t know how you detectives do it.”

You reach across the table and grab his hands warmly. “I feel the same way about physics, I don’t know how you do it. All those equations.”

Dr. Furon cracks a smile. “Someone has to. But I do have help with all my courses. Each student has a specific discussion section once a week with a smaller class size, but they’re all taught by graduate students.”

You jot that down on your notebook and lean your chair back. You knock once on the window.

“On it.” Hyunjin’s muffled voice comes through the glass.

“Just one more question, Dr. Furon, I won’t take up any more of your time, this has been very valuable. Are there any students or people that you come in contact with that maybe trigger some alarm bells or a gut instinct?”

He shifts around, he really thinks about it.

“I really can’t think of anything, detective, I’m sorry. The girls’ names that I recognize were normal students too, granted they weren’t the best, but I do know they were doing their very best. Breaks my heart.”

You scribble that down and stand up.

“Thank you very much for your time, Dr. Furon. We greatly appreciate your help.”

He nods and stands up as well. “Of course, if I can do anything else, please give me a call.”

“If you think of anything else, here’s my card.” You reach across the table and hand him a small business card.

You showed the professor out of the room, asking if he needed anything. He patted your arm sweetly before leaving.

When you turn around, Hyunjin is standing there, waving a file around.

You roll your eyes. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

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Your apartment has become the unofficial meeting place for both you and Hyunjin once your shifts are over. The department wasn’t great for concentration.

They say not to take work home with you, but your home is so much cozier.

It’s only about 8 PM. Takeout containers take up a small portion of the kitchen island.

Another pot of coffee is brewing.

“So, between the victims, there are five different graduate students that taught their discussion sections. And one of them graduated last year.” Hyunjin flips through his notes.

You run your hands through your hair.

“So, four graduate students.”

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’.

“Do we have any information on the four students?”

“No, but we have enough cause to bring them down to the station for questioning.”

You sigh and pick up your phone. “Let’s do that, then.”

A message is sent off to Chief Bang, he replies immediately saying he’ll contact them immediately and have them brought in and that he’ll call you when you can come in.

“I just don’t think it was any of the graduate students.” Hyunjin adds, sliding papers around to grab a victim’s file.

“I agree.”

He doesn’t seem to hear you. “Two of the graduate students are women— women don’t commit murders like this, the other two are masters in their field with promising careers.”

“I know, I agree with you, Hwang.”

“And I just don’t think that— wait, you agree?”

You stare at him with a blank expression. “Yes, I agree with you.”

He shifts around on the seat. His mouth opens and closes a few times before actually speaking. “You agree?”

Rolling your eyes, you place the papers down on the table. “Hwang, you know I would rather die than agree with you, but in this case, yes, I agree, I think you’re right.”

“Oh.”

Looking back down at the papers, you absentmindedly read a sentence in one of the witness statements. “I know you get the job done, I’m not going to put personal feelings before a case.”

Hyunjin fidgets more. “So, you think I’m a good detective?”

Is he serious?

You roll your eyes, still not looking up. “Yes, Hwang. Chief Bang has proclaimed you as one of the greatest detectives— everyone at the station knows that.”

“I just didn’t think you thought that way.”

“I’m not here to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He clears his throat and shifts forward on his chair. “But do you , Y/L L/N, think I’m a good detective?”

Putting the paper down on the counter, you look up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a frown. “Really? Do your work.”

“Not until you say it.” He smirks and crosses his arms over his chest.

Rolling your eyes, you look down once more. What was on this page again?

“Choke.”

Hyunjin takes a breath to say something, but your phone lights up with a call at the same time. Expecting it to be Chief Bang, you answer quickly.

“Detective L/N.”

“Detective!” An old voice comes from the other line. You pull your phone back to look at the unknown number and then bring it back to your ear.

Hyunjin’s attention peaks at your confusion.

“It’s Dr. Furon, I apologize for calling so suddenly.”

“Oh, hi Doctor, it’s no trouble at all.” You look around for your notepad.

“Put it on speaker,” Hyunjin hisses while leaning forward. You shoo him off. He reaches forward to grab the phone from you, you smack his hand.

“I remembered something I didn’t get a chance to say earlier, I’m so sorry I didn’t think of it,” Dr. Furon continues.

“That’s quite alright, it’s the reason I gave you my number. Now, what is it?” You grab a pen and a random piece of paper.

Hyunjin reaches again, you smack his hand once more. “Speaker!” He grumbles again.

Dr. Furon talks, unaware of the petty brawl happening on the other line. “All of the students that are struggling in my class, I point them to the tutoring center in the library. As far as I remember, the names that were in the paper, the ones I recognize at least, they were going to the tutoring center.”

Your eyes widen and you write it down quickly.

Hyunjin’s patience wears out, he stands up from the counter and comes around to your side, his face dipping down to press his ear to the other side of the phone.

“Is there only one tutor available for your class?” you ask, jotting down notes.

“I’m not sure, I’m sorry. You know, now that I think of it, on their final exams, I give extra credit if they write down that they went to tutoring and name their tutor.”

“Do you have those exams?” Hyunjin asks into the phone. You reach over and flick his forehead. He swats your hand away.

“Oh, Detective Hwang, how are you?” Dr. Furon says politely.

“I’m doing very well, thank you.”

You go to smack him again, he once more swats your hand away.

The professor comes back to the conversation. “I have them but they’re in my office. Would you two mind coming to campus to get them tomorrow?”

“Of course,” both you and Hyunjin say at the same time.

You sneer and push his face away.

“Great!” Dr. Furon gives you all the details for tomorrow and the two of you hang up.

Placing your phone on the counter, you stand up to get away from Hyunjin.

“You could've put it on speaker.”

“You could’ve been patient!” Grabbing the nearest object— a tissue box— you hurl it at him.

Hyunjin only laughs and catches it.

“Putting more coffee on?”

“Obviously.”

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“It’s the same one,” you say incredulously, flipping through the exams that Dr. Furon had given the two of you.

While you got the papers from the professor’s office, Hyunjin had gone to the tutoring center for a list of tutors. Apparently he had a connection there as well.

The two of you now sat in the conference room with your original cork board to the side. New leads and pictures right smack in the middle.

You had spent the day questioning the graduate students, but as you suspected, it was a dead end. No one knew anything.

The exams spread over the table were the best lead.

“It is,” he mutters in agreement and disbelief.

“Eric Rowan.”

“Do you think…?” Hyunjin trails off.

“I do,” you state clearly. “I really do.”

Shaking your head, you flip through the exams over and over to make sure you’re right, to make sure you’re not looking past something.

You’re not jumping to conclusions, are you?

Hyunjin suddenly stands up from the table and makes his way to the door. “I’ll have the chief get someone to bring him down to the station.”

He didn’t even give a second thought to your decision.

The door clicks after him. The silence inside the room is deafening.

It would be perfect if you could play music like you do at home.

“Eric Rowan,” you whisper solemnly.

One tutor from the library at the university.

It would make sense.

Hyunjin had managed to get Eric’s entire tutoring log, every student he’s ever tutored had been included.

You were able to highlight each and every one of the girls’ names that were victims of these heinous crimes. There were about two weeks of time between their last tutoring session and when they were found dead.

One name stuck out, one name brought you an endless sigh of relief: Andrea Bowman.

It made your skin crawl, but you instantly noticed she was the first female he tutored during his time.

Slowly, the pieces started clicking. Your throat got a bit tight, it was difficult to swallow the emotions.

You look around and grab her file underneath a huge stack. Her school picture is the top photo paper clipped on the inside.

Andrea’s smiling face will haunt you for a long time.

Hyunjin came back into the room, you didn’t look up.

“Chief just sent someone out to get him, we’re getting interrogation room two ready for him, I think that— L/N?”

Your head snaps up and you sniffle.

“Sorry,” your voice is hoarse.

He shifts his weight in the doorway. “Everything finally hitting?”

You bite your lip and look back at Andrea’s picture. “Yeah.”

Standing up from the table, you close the file and tuck it underneath a few more.

“The guy hasn’t even confessed yet, I’m getting ahead of myself here. It just makes too much sense. These girls stopped going to see him two weeks before he killed— supposedly killed them.

“It just reads so clearly. He probably made a move, they felt uncomfortable so they stopped seeing him for tutoring, he couldn’t face rejection, so he killed them. It’s fucking sick.”

You roll your shoulders and look up at the ceiling. “Am I being too hasty? It just feels right, like … like these girls are cheering for me and telling me I’m right.”

The door shuts behind Hyunjin. He weighs his words carefully and walks up to his jacket, grabbing it off the back of the chair he sat in before.

Those perfectly polished dress shoes click on the floor. It echoes off of each wall.

“There’s one thing I’ve always lacked as a detective.” He folds the trench coat over his arm and walks up to you. “It makes me so mad that I don’t have this, it would help with so many of my cases.”

You watch him warily. There’s a sad smile on his face as he takes in your frazzled mood.

You’ve never worn your heart this freely on your sleeve before.

With a sigh, he reaches up and taps on your forehead. “Women’s intuition.”

For the first time, you have no response for him.

As far as Hwang Hyunjin goes, this is the closest you’ve ever gotten to a compliment from him, or even an acknowledgment of your skill.

Your lips stay sealed.

“I’ve never not trusted your judgment. Ever. If your gut is saying this is the guy, then this is him. When have you ever been wrong?”

Your mind is reeling.

Did he just compliment you again?

Heat rises to your cheeks. Your stomach flips.

“I’ve always been so jealous of that. You just… know.” He shrugs and looks around, a small tinge of pink on his cheeks. “When the pieces finally fit into place you’re fucking brilliant at solving everything so fast. What’s that about?”

A sad laugh tumbles from his lips.

“This case would’ve taken any other team months to solve, but you and I did it in two weeks. Maybe we should work together more often, Y/N.”

There’s no way he said that.

He’s jealous of you?

And did he just call you by your first name?

He stares down at you for a couple of seconds. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear that his eyes flickered to your lips more than once.

“Come on then, we have an interrogation to do.”

Hyunjin turns on a heel and makes his way to the door.

“Thank you,” you call after him. Hyunjin’s hand pauses on the door handle. “Thank you, Hyunjin.”

He doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t acknowledge what you did— the favor you just returned.

He doesn’t speak on the new level that your relationship just crossed nor the mutual respect that you two just shared.

Nothing.

You don’t even get to see his face when you call him by his name for the first time.

But, by the way his shoulders square and his head twitches, you know it affected him.

Wordlessly, he nods and opens the door, leaving it open for you as he walks into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms.

Hwang Hyunjin, the golden child of the police department, considers you to be on the same level as him. Who would’ve thought?

Maybe he’s right, maybe you should work together more often.

---------------------------------------

Hours and hours and hours have gone by.

Hyunjin as well as other officers have been grilling Eric for what seems like days. But it’s only been about 18 hours.

The bags under your eyes feel like bruises.

Three empty coffee cups and one full one sit next to you as you stare through the one way glass.

Hyunjin’s pacing around the room with his hands in his pockets.

His tie is loose around his neck, the sleeves of his button up are rolled up, his hair is tied up out of his eyes.

He’s been trying to go the good cop route for the last 3 hours. Slowly, that act has been dropping; Eric is getting on his last nerve.

You both let Eric sit in the interrogation room by himself for 4 hours leading up to this to get to his head. It didn’t seem to work. You can only legally keep him here for forty-eight hours.

If anything, he’s only gotten more agitated.

Hyunjin walks up behind Eric, he reaches one arm down to the table.

“You’ve never seen any of these girls before?” Hyunjin slides a few photos towards them on the table.

“No.” Eric answers quickly. “I’ve already told you that.”

“I just think it’s interesting you’ve never seen any of them, Mr. Rowan. You tutored them. All of them.”

“Do you realize how many students I tutor on a daily basis?”

Hyunjin barks a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn't realize you were that popular.” He comes around the table and opens a file.

Hyunjin pulls out one specific page, and reads off the top. “Actually, here we go, I know exactly how many students you tutor. Let’s see here: ‘Eric Rowan works two days a week in the tutoring center, Tuesdays and Thursdays.’ Last week you tutored 3 students total, and they were all returning students— how interesting!”

He slams the paper down onto the metal table. Eric jumps.

“Only three returning faces to your tutoring session, Mr. Popular. And here’s the funniest thing; I’ve noticed that there’s no women on this list. Weird.”

Eric’s eye twitches.

Hyunjin takes a seat across the table, folding his hands on top of a notebook.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend before, Mr. Rowan?”

Eric scoffs and shifts around in his seat.

Your interest is piqued, you sit up straight in your chair and lean forward.

Why did he get so nervous all of a sudden?

Eric picks up the cup of water that he requested and takes a long sip from it. Hyunjin waits patiently.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to anything, Detective.”

Hyunjin laughs and opens the file. “See, I thought you would say that. My chief also asked the same question.”

Said Chief, who has been standing behind you for the better part of 5 hours, most certainly did not ask that. Chief Bang snorts quietly at the lie.

“But you know what, we detectives have to do our due diligence.” Hyunjin opens a file and slides a large printed photo out across the table. “Recognize her?”

So many different emotions fly across Eric’s face: anger, loss, betrayal, depression, rage, hurt. The muscles in his face dance as they try to settle on an expression.

“No,” he grits out.

An obvious lie.

“Interesting.” Hyunjin pulls out another photo and slides it across. “Because just by taking a quick look at your social media profile, I can see how this girl was your girlfriend . Look, here you are together! Leah Miller. Pretty girl.”

Eric says nothing. He can’t look away from the picture.

“Most interesting part I noticed was that you haven’t posted anything with her in about a year. What happened? Breakup? They suck, hm? Sorry, should I have said ‘ex-girlfriend’ before? My bad.”

You can’t help but smile. Hyunjin’s always been brilliant in interrogations, you can’t deny that. You’ve only ever heard rumors about how he is on the other side of the one-way mirror.

Sneaking a peek at the picture of Leah Miller, your eyes widen. She fit the profile: long, blonde hair and sweet, light eyes.

More pieces fall into place.

“It’s none of your business,” Eric grits out between clenched teeth.

Chief Bang shifts behind you and grabs the back of your chair. Obviously he senses it too, a confession, a slip up, anything. It’s showing its head.

“What? What are you saying?” Hyunjin laughs. “It’s exactly my business. That’s quite literally what my job is, you know, to know your business. It’s the same reason I know that you asked out Andrea Bowman during one of your tutoring sessions and she rejected you.”

“That’s not—“

“Oh, sorry, is that not how it happened? Did you maybe try and make a move on her and she rejected you that way? Maybe you put an arm around the back of her chair? Classic.”

“I-I didn’t—“

“Not that one? Understood.” Hyunjin nods and flips through the pictures on the table. “Oh, did you use the old ‘give me your number just in case you need more help’ trick? Used that on a girl in college, myself. Of course, it worked for me.” He winks at Eric.

Eric is fuming, his face is turning redder and redder, the vein in his forehead is popping.

“Here we go,” Chief Bang whispers under his breath.

Your mouth is agape, you’ve heard about Hyunjin in interrogation rooms before but you’ve never actually seen it.

It’s like he’s dancing with fire so beautifully. He’s twirling a flaming sword with a silver tongue.

“I think Andrea rejected you and then when she never came back for more tutoring, you lost it. You looked up her campus address in the internal systems, because guess what, you have access to that as a tutor, and you went to her dorm room, and you killed her.”

“Wh-What? You’re way off base here, Detective.” Eric stutters, his eye twitches again, his leg starts bouncing under the table.

He pulls on the cuffs keeping him to the table.

Hyunjin you’re so close, come on, come on.

“Funny!” Hyunjin exclaims and slides another piece of paper across the table. “Here’s the search history in the library computer with your login credentials!”

Eric gapes, his mouth opens and closes several times.

“You know what, maybe you didn’t go to Andrea’s dorm with the idea of killing her. Maybe it was a grand romantic gesture, yeah, that seems more like it— flowers and everything.” He slams another picture on the table.

A bouquet of flowers was found at Andrea’s crime scene.

“You presented her with the flowers. And she rejected you. Again. ” Hyunjin’s voice is getting louder and louder, crescendoing with Eric’s anger and heart rate.

Your breathing picks up. Both you and Chief Bang stop moving.

“Stop,” Eric suddenly pleads. His hands shoot up to cover his ears but they’re stopped by the cuffs.

The metal clinks and pulls, they dig into his wrists.

“She rejected you twice! To your face! But you couldn’t take that for an answer. God, why did she do that? Why did she turn you down when you were just trying to be nice? ”

Hyunjin stands up slowly from the table, towering over Eric.

“She was just like her, she was just like that bitch that broke up with you? She tore your heart out and spit on it! She was no better than Leah! So, you knocked her out and you tied her down to her own fucking bed in hopes that she would just hear you out!”

“Stop, stop!”

“Because maybe if she just listened she would understand that you’re just a genuine guy trying to be a good boyfriend to someone! You’re so nice, you’re such a good guy, no one likes good guys anymore, huh? And, of course Leah didn’t see that either!”

“ Stop! ”

“She tried to scream for help, so you killed her. You slit her throat without a second fucking thought for anything! And it felt so fucking good, didnt it? It felt so good to finally take power back from her? So, you didn’t stop.”

Tears spring from Eric’s eyes as he squints them shut, his body physically curling in on itself. He writhes around, unable to get far because of the handcuffs.

“So you kept going, and you went after women who looked just like Leah. And it felt amazing because every single time you could picture her face as you slit their throats. Each and every one of them babbling for mercy, crying out for their mothers, to only choke on their own blood—“

“ FINE! ” Eric screams, slamming his fists on the table. “I killed them. I killed each and every one of the fucking bitches. And I fucking wish I could have killed her too!”

The sudden seemingly endless torrent of sentences comes to a screaming halt.

Hyunjin sits down on his chair once more with a huff.

And just like you did yesterday, he leans back on his chair and knocks once on the window.

It takes you a second to find your voice after witnessing the most amazing, jaw dropping interrogation you’ve ever seen.

“G-Got it!” You say loudly through the glass. “We got it. Oh my god!” You stand up quickly from the chair and turn around to Chief Bang, who has an equally surprised expression. “We got it! ”

He stutters for a moment and shakes his head to clear his mind before speed walking out of the side room to get officers to arrest Eric.

Eric Rowan, who is now pathetically sobbing in his chair.

Eric Rowan who signed his confession with the opposite hand that he’d been using to drink his water.

Eric Rowan who is ambidextrous.

---------------------------------------

It’s so weird to see your kitchen island devoid of files and endless stacks of papers after the last few weeks.

Eric was taken in for booking. Your job was over.

Well, it was over for now. Chief Bang gave you and Hyunjin a week off and then you’re due back in the office for the next case.

Plus, you’ll have to be at Eric Rowan’s trial since you were the lead detective on the case.

So maybe ‘over’ isn’t the best way to describe it.

More soft music plays from your speaker as you clean up the rest of the files. A large t-shirt draped over your body, it practically covers the shorts you have underneath.

There’s a couple knocks on your door. His knocks are so distinct. You’ve gotten so used to them over the past two weeks.

“Come in, Hwang!” you call out.

The door opens and shuts.

“I think I left a few things here,” he says kicking his shoes off in your entryway.

You hum in response, gathering up files to stack them neatly.

His soft footsteps pad up behind you.

“I don’t think I ever saw your countertop, is this granite?” he teases over your shoulder.

You snort a laugh. “Yeah, it is. Came with the place, so don’t ask any more questions.”

Putting the stack down, you turn around and come nose to nose with Hyunjin. He is so much closer than you thought he was.

You jump slightly and back up a bit, your hips hitting the countertop.

Hyunjin doesn’t move.

“I didn’t get to see you after the interrogation,” he says with a quieter voice.

Not able to hold his searing gaze, you look off to the side and cross your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, well, you know how the hustle and bustle can wrap someone up after a case closes. Next thing I knew, Bang was sending me home.”

Hyunjin takes a half step closer to you. “What did you think?”

“Hm?”

“What did you think of the interrogation?”

So many sarcastic, sharp retorts die on your tongue when you remember the conversation that the two of you had earlier.

But still, complimenting him was about as easy as petting a cactus.

“I told you I’m not going to stroke your ego, Hwang.”

He takes another step towards you, both of his arms come up to cage you to the counter.

Heat rises on your cheeks more and more with each passing second. You refuse to meet his eyeline.

“Humor me, L/N. How was my performance today?”

Tonguing your cheek, you roll your eyes. Your heart rate picks up at his proximity. Why does he smell so good?

The last time the both of you had an opportunity to shower was two days ago.

He still smells like aftershave and expensive cologne.

“It was good, okay? You got the guy.”

“ We got the guy, L/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, golden boy, we got him.”

He knows your sarcasm is empty. Just by looking at your flushed face he can tell you don’t mean it.

“Come on now, L/N.” Long, lithe fingers grip your chin and turn your head towards him. “You can do better than that.”

Your jaw clenches. Arousal shoots down your spine like an electric shock.

Fuck.

Closer and closer his alarmingly handsome face inches closer to yours. The beauty mark under his eye seems more prominent than ever.

His mind is one of a brilliant detective, but god, that face. He should’ve been a model.

You bite the inside of your cheek and when you try to look away from his deep eyes, the grin on your jaw tightens.

“Come on, L/N.” He smirks. “Tell me how good I did today. Say it.”

The brat inside you decides to surface. So, he wants to go this route, hm? “Why do you need me to say it so badly, Hwang? Everyone else in the department is so far up your ass, they can wear you like a hat.”

He rolls his eyes, his body pressing against you entirely. Your arms uncross and you reach back to grip the countertop next to his hands.

It shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You should be shoving him away, slapping him across the face, spitting on his shoes. But instead you relish in the feeling.

“Yes. But they’re not you. ”

Your eyes widen and the corner of his mouth twitches. He knows he has you in the palm of his hand. He just needs to break you more.

But does he really?

Finally, he brings his lips closer and closer to yours. He pauses right before he makes contact, giving you a chance to say no.

Nothing of the sort tumbles out.

The first kiss he presses to your lips is nothing short of devouring.

His soft, plush lips consume yours like he’s a starving man at a feast. You meet his enthusiasm with fervor.

Hyunjin’s head tilts to get better access to your mouth. His eyebrows pull together in concentration, he almost looks like he’s in pain.

The fingers on your chin move down to your neck, he wraps his hand around it, thumbs on top of your pulse point, but he doesn’t squeeze.

Your hands tentatively reach for him, grabbing at his dress shirt and tie, pulling him even closer to you.

A small moan comes from the base of his throat and through his nose. Hyunjin’s other hand grabs your hip possessively.

“Say it, L/N,” he hushes between kisses, completely out of breath. “Tell me how good I am.”

How is it that he has this sort of possessive grip on you and yet he’s putting the ball in your court?

A small boost of confidence courses through your veins.

“Can’t you just admit it already?” he adds.

Smirking, you say nothing. One of your hands threads into his long hair and yanks his face back to yours for another bruising kiss.

He huffs through his nose once more, but kisses you nonetheless.

Twirl after twirl of his tie around your hand tightens your grip. With the last tug, Hyunjin moans once more into your mouth. The hand on your throat squeezes a bit.

“L/N,” he pleads again against your lips.

You tug hard on his tie. Hyunjin loses his balance slightly, his knuckles turning white from grabbing your countertop so tight.

Bringing your lips to his ear, you blow hot air on the sensitive skin first. He shivers against your hot body.

At the same time, your bare foot travels up the back of his clothed calf, your thigh brushing against his hip.

“If you want my approval that badly, you’re going to have to earn it.”

Hyunjin makes a choked moan, “Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. The hand on your hip tightens. The fingers wrapped around your throat twitch.

“How does that sound, Hwang? You be good to me and I’ll let you know how well you’re doing.” You roll your hips against his.

Your words have an obvious effect on him, the hardness that presses to your leg says it all.

Hyunjins lips drop down to your neck, he bites the soft skin where it meets your shoulder. “Fucking hell, L/N, don’t play hard to get.”

Humming, you roll your head back, enjoying the sensation of his mouth on your skin. “I’m not playing anything, I already told you how to get what you want.”

Licking and sucking his way down your neck, his teeth nip at your exposed collarbone. The hand on your throat slides backwards and into the hair on the back of your head.

Your bottom lip pulls between your teeth to stop a moan from leaking out. You pull Hyunjin’s tie to keep his face there.

“Just like that, golden boy, your mouth feels so good.”

His hips involuntarily buck into yours at the praise, he whimpers against your skin. “ Shit, ” he curses into your neck with a hot exhale.

You wrap your entire leg around his waist and roll against him more. His mouth stutters, but afterwards he sucks hard . A bright purple hickey already surfaces when he detaches.

“L/N,” he murmurs into your neck. You hum in response. “Can I take this off?” He tugs at your shirt.

You smirk. “You can.”

When your hand unwinds from his tie, Hyunjin backs off of you. His face is already so fucked out; eyes are half-lidded and hazy, his lips are so puffy and swollen, spit glistening off them in the soft kitchen light.

From all your pulling, Hyunjin’s hair is all askew and coming out of its usual ponytail.

He wastes no time, grabbing the hem of your t-shirt and yanking it over your head, he throws it behind him carelessly. His eyes light up at the sight of your bare chest, tongue poking out to lick his already slick lips.

You chuckle.

“You gunna touch me or what?” you tease. “Or maybe you don’t want it that badly.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches and he meets your eyes. The look he’s giving you is dangerous.

He huffs once and grabs your waist tightly, lifting you up off the ground and sitting you on the cold granite. The sharp temperature change against your flushed skin makes you shiver.

Hyunjin parts your legs and stands between your thighs, his head dips down and envelopes one nipple in his mouth.

“Fuck!” you cry out, grabbing a fist full of his hair.

One of Hyunjin’s hands trails up your leg to grab at your exposed thigh while the other comes up to play with your other perky bud.

His eyes shut in his own pleasure. That tongue is absolutely relentless, licking circles around your nipple to flick over it a few times and then sucking.

Your toes are already curling, legs wrapping around his waist to get him closer to you.

“How about now, L/N?” his hoarse voice whines against your spit covered chest. “Is this good for you? Does it feel good?”

The more he talks, the more you can’t tell if he’s teasing you or genuinely asking for his own sanity.

“It feels fucking amazing, Hwang, keep– shit – keep going.”

Hyunjin takes in a shaky breath and switches sides, your fingers yank on his hair and he whines again around your nipple.

You let him continue for a while, relishing in the feeling of his spit dripping down your chest and onto your navel. The wet licks and sucks bouncing off the walls combined with his own small whines and your loud moans.

Roll after roll of your hips grinds against his hard tent in his dress pants. After a few minutes, your hips seem to have a mind of their own, your soaking wet cunt seeking friction against anything to satiate the need for contact.

The more he licks at your chest, the more Hwang Hyunjin continues to drive you insane.

“H-Hwang,” you pull his attention. His eyebrows furrow as you yank him away from your purple marked chest.

When he finally detaches, he looks up at you, panting.

“Touch me, touch me, please . I can’t fucking take it.”

His shoulders curl forward like you knocked the air out of him.

With more strength than you thought he had, he scoops you up and wraps your legs around his waist while smashing your lips together again.

You cling onto him for dear life while letting your tongues slide over one another.

“Hah,” you pant out in between kisses. “You’re doing so fucking well.”

He whines.

“Could’ve made me cum with just that tongue on my tits. Such a shame.”

Hyunjin drops your body onto the couch without a warning. You squeal and bounce on the soft cushions.

“Hwang–” your voice dies in your throat when you catch the sight of him standing on the other side of the sofa arm.

The change in his demeanor gives you whiplash.

His eyes are dark, almost black. His chest is heaving with heavy pants. Those long fingers are tugging at his tie, until it's loose enough for him to rip off his neck.

Your knees tuck up a bit towards your chest as you watch him with wide eyes like prey.

Hyunjin reaches down and snatches your ankle, he tugs on it harshly. You yelp as you’re dragged forward into a lying position.

Coming around the sofa, he swings one knee over you to straddle your hips. One by one he begins to unbutton his dress shirt, never once breaking eye contact.

Each sliver of skin that is revealed is devoured by your eyes greedily. Never once has he so much as undone the top button on his collar at work.

Shamelessly, you rake in his athletic build.

“You want to cum with just my tongue? Okay, L/N, I can do that.”

Your heart thuds in your chest.

He shrugs his shirt off and drops it to the floor. Hands grab at the waistband of your shorts and yank them off with your panties in one swoop. Another article of clothing to hit the floor.

The cold air against your soaking wet folds makes you hiss slightly.

Hyunjin stares down at your arousal, biting his bottom lip. Lower and lower he descends until you can feel his heavy exhales against your cunt.

He pushes your thighs apart, putting one over his shoulder, your heel settles into the dip of his spine. He’s smirking the entire time.

Finally, he tears his eyes away from your folds to look you right in the eye.

Your jaw clenches and you watch as he licks all the way from your entrance, up to your clit, circles around it to go back down to your entrance again.

An immediate shockwave of pleasure shoots through your body down to your toes. You toss your head back with your mouth agape, a silent scream stretching your lips.

Hyunjin keens at your reaction, doing the same maneuver again before focusing his attention on creating the most sinful figure eights with his tongue.

Your hand flies down to grab at his hair, shoulders arching off the couch. “Shit, shit, H-Hwang, feels so– hah – s-so good.”

He moans into you, the vibrations go right through you.

With your heel on his back, you can feel how his back curves as his hips rut into the couch underneath him to relieve some pressure off his aching cock.

Praises fall from your lips like water falling over rock. Each one makes Hyunjin whine and kick it up a notch.

“That fu- uh -cking silver tongue, holy shit .”

Hyunjin moans loudly, he grabs both of your hips, nails digging into your skin with deep scratches. It only makes you cry out louder, pulling on his hair even harder.

The tie in his hair comes out completely. You toss it away from you and gather up his hair in between your fingers to keep it out of his eyes. It feels like silk.

A coil within you begins winding tighter and tighter. The more he licks and sucks, the higher your cries get and the tighter your abdomen feels.

“Feels so good, it feels fucking amazing ! S-So close! Shit, please make me cum, please, shit!”

Each word makes Hyunjin sutter and moan into your folds, his eyebrows pulled like he’s in pain. Harder and harder he ruts into your sofa, his nails digging into you so much you think he might draw blood.

It’s taking every ounce of his will not to spill out in his pants at your praise. At your begging .

One of his hands comes up and kneads at your chest. His thumb rubs over your nipple a few times and that’s all it takes for the band within you to finally snap.

Your orgasm washes over you so hard it’s like being hit by a bus.

With a silent cry, your entire body tenses up. Hyunjin’s movements slow down, but he still coaxes you through your climax with that skilled tongue of his.

He hums into your folds, licking up every last drop of your juices.

You come down from your high slowly, chest heaving up and down, every exhale is paired with a moan. Shockwaves still ripple through your thighs.

Hyunjin’s eyes open and he stares at you, his mouth going over to bite your inner thigh. You squeal and squirm.

Slowly, like a lion, he gets up and crawls over your form, keeping eye contact. Once he’s close enough, he captures your lips greedily. Your arousal is still all over his tongue. It’s swapped between the two of you with your spit.

Your hands reach down and fumble with his belt buckle. Hyunjin makes no move to stop you, instead, he pushes you further.

“Look at that,” he pants, looking down at your fumbling hands. “So desperate for my cock, huh, L/N?”

Your eyebrow twitches. You undo the buckle and reach down to grab his rock hard erection through his pants.

Hyunjin’s elbows buckle at your touch and he grunts, squinting his eyes shut.

“All talk, aren’t you? Once I touch you, you crumble .”

“Shit!” His eyes snap open and he bucks into your hand. “Because– ugh –, like I said, it’s you . Fuck ,” he moans when you squeeze him again over his pants.

“Keep going,” you tease. “Keep going and I’ll keep stroking this fucking monster cock you keep tucked in these pressed dress pants of yours.”

He exhales shakily while you unbutton his trousers.

“When were you ever going to fucking– agh – realize that you drive me fucking insane, L/N?” His eyes start to unfocus when you push down the waistband of his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Fucking hell . Has he always been packing this?

“God damn, Hwang.” Your hand runs up his length. Hyunjin shudders and closes his eyes. Your touch is so featherlight he thinks he’s going insane.

His eyebrows twitch and hips buck forward to try and reach your touch.

“I’m not hearing a lot of talking.” You lean up and attach your lips to his neck, continuing to only trail the gentlest of touches up and down his throbbing cock.

The head is red and angry and weeping precum.

His body trembles. “ Shit – I wanted you for so long, L/N. You drive me– fuck – insane. Every single fucking day I did whatever it fucking took to get your attention.”

Finally, your hand wraps around his length tightly and you start pumping very slowly. The long, pathetic moan that tumbles from Hyunjin’s lips is something of sin.

He sounds so relieved yet even more aroused at the same time.

You continue to suck your own marks onto his perfect skin. Sweat drips down the side of his face and down his now slick back.

“ Ughhh – L-L/N…” He buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hand stops moving when he stops talking.

He cries out into your neck, hips frantically bucking into your touch to chase it. You only chuckle in response.

“ Please! ” He whimpers.

“Keep going then, golden boy.” You suck a sensitive spot underneath his ear.

Another stutter of his hips.

“I begged the chief to put me on your case!”

Your pumping picks up speed again, his entire body rolls into yours. You grip him tighter and jerk him faster.

“I said– ah – I would do whatever case he wanted next if he– ffuuck – let me work with you on this one– oh my god! And I still would, I would do whatever– mmmph – case I need to to fucking work with you every day. Agh! ”

Despite your outwards nonchalant expression, on the inside, his words are fucking killing you. The throb in your cunt that was satiated moments ago comes back with a vengeance.

To hear Hwang Hyunjin at your mercy is going straight to your core. Each noise he makes goes straight to your pussy.

“God, fuck , L/N, I-I’m close. Please, god , shit.”

After a few more pumps, you stop, taking your hand away completely. Hyunjin cries into the crook of your neck again, his body rolling and rutting the air at the loss of contact.

“Please, why, fucking hell , I was so close!”

You grab the hair on the back of his head and yank his head up to look down at you. His eyes are cloudy, ears and cheeks bright red. Sweat drips down the side of his face and over his sharp cheekbones and jawline.

“Wouldn’t you rather fuck me?”

His face twists up with another moan.

Hyunjin dives down and captures your lips in the sloppiest kiss of the night. He’s messy and desperate the longer he kisses you.

While trying to stay attached to your lips, Hyunjin fumbles around to kick off his pants and boxers.

Both of you finally naked together, he grabs his cock in his fist.

“I-I’m not going to last–”

You cut him off with a sharp tug to his hair. “Fuck me, golden boy, don’t you think you deserve it after today?”

His eyes practically roll back in his head.

As soon as he’s lined up with your entrance, Hyunjin slides into you slowly. Inch by inch you’re stretched open,

He might not be thick but god, he is long .

With his mouth on yours, he swallows each moan and cry of pleasure. Without wasting any amount of time, he pulls out to slam back into you.

Both of you moan out together.

Your arm wraps around his neck. He rests his weight on one elbow and the other wraps around your shoulders to hug you close to him. His hand splays out between your shoulder blades to keep you anchored against his sweat slicked chest.

The skin to skin contact sends both of you wild.

Over and over again his hips undulate to thrust into you in the most delicious way. The angle of his hips brushes his pelvic bone against your clit with each slam against you.

“You feel so fucking good,” you whine into his ear.

Hyunjin’s next thrust hits a bit harder. If praise makes him fuck you harder, then so be it.

“God, your cock is amazing.” Harder. “Hitting me just right.” Harder. “Never knew you would feel this fucking good.”

With his mouth on your neck, he leaves sloppy hickeys wherever he can reach. His pants fill the room and mix with your whines.

His head suddenly dips down to take your nipple into his mouth once more. You keen and toss your head back, hips canting up. The new angle has his cock slam right into your g-spot.

A loud scream tears from your lips. Hyunjin immediately picks up on this and picks up the pace, making sure he hits that spot every time.

If you thought your first orgasm had a sudden build up, it’s nothing compared to this one. There’s a sudden pressure increasing in your lower stomach.

“Fuck!” Thrust . “So good!” Thrust. “Oh my god!”

Praises and noises fall from you, you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore. The pleasure has your mind in the clouds.

“Y/N,” the sudden use of your name grabs your attention. Hyunjin comes up over your face with a pleasure twisted face.

“Say it, please, please , I’m fucking begging you , please, say it.”

Your eyebrows pull together, mouth still hanging open. What does he want you to say that you haven’t said already?

“ My name. Say it, please, please, please, please–”

Oh, fuck.

You smirk and watch as the desperation drives him wild. Even in the deepest throes of pleasure, you string him along for a few more seconds as you approach the edge.

Closer and closer you come to the edge.

He whines, begging louder and louder as his own climax creeps up on him, the muscles in his body tightening more and more.

He needs it so bad.

“Y/N! Please! ”

Just as you’re about to tumble over, your mouth stretches open.

“Fuck, Hyunjin! ”

The loudest moan you’ve ever heard from a man comes falling out of his mouth as he buries his face into your neck. Hot, sticky warmth shoots within you in long, drawn out spurts that match with Hyunjin’s whines and groans.

His hips stutter for another twenty seconds before his moans finally calm down.

Both of you hold onto each other tightly, heaving heavy inhales and exhales to catch your breath.

Absent-mindedly, your hand begins to rub up and down Hyunjin’s clammy back, drawing small circles and lines onto his skin.

He hums into your neck and holds you closer for a moment before collapsing onto the couch on top of you.

Surprisingly, his weight on top of you doesn’t seem to phase you; instead it brings the same comfort as a weighted blanket.

After a few more minutes of you silently rubbing his back, Hyunjin begins to lazily press kisses onto your bruise covered chest, paying extra attention to your collarbones.

The kisses are soft and sweet, nothing like the lust coated ones from before.

“Did you mean it?” you ask him quietly.

He pauses his kisses only to answer you. “Mean what?” He starts kissing you more.

“That you asked Bang to work on the case.”

He chuckles against your neck, his hair tickling your skin. “Oh, yeah. It took entirely too much convincing.”

You laugh with him and keep him close to your body.

In the back of your mind, you know you should get up, that he should pull out and the two of you should shower and drink water, but you can’t seem to distance yourself from him.

There’s no harm in sitting there for a while anyway.

Hyunjin hums into your neck again, “Thank god we have the week off.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids x y/n #skz x y/n #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic

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connorsnothereeither · 26 days

Text

OKAY SO now that it’s released, I wanna talk about the process of the Ulysses Ambient ASMR video cause I put way too much effort into it lmao-

Over the course of the one hour video, there is a total of 25 individual sound layers, plus the video layer. Within those layers is literally hundreds of individual sounds and clips, but for the most part things can be broken up into what I’ve been calling “ambience levels”!

Level 1: Environmental

The smallest of the levels (3 audio layers) is the first, the “environmental layer”. This includes the crashing waves, the wind outside (since Ulysses study is upstairs I wanted a very attic-on-the-beach vibe with the howling wind) and the occasional seagulls!

Level 2: The Experiments

This is one of the bigger levels, and had a total of 6 layers. There is a consistent bubbling/simmering water sound throughout the video, but on occasion, there is slightly different, more active boiling/bubbling sound layered in to vary it. There is also a handful of sounds like jars being opened, liquid being poured, things being mixed/stirred, and glass vials being clinked together!

Level 3: Writing

This level has about 5 layers all up, between both writing and drawing sound effects (they’re subtly different, one is broader and the other more scratchy), several variations of books being opened and flipped through, and things being taken on and off bookshelves!

Level 4: Kelpie!

I really wanted something to make it feel more tailored to Ulysses than just a standard ASMR vibe, so I thought including the pets was a cute idea! Kelpie had one of the smaller levels, at only 3 sound layers. At about the 17 minute mark, you can hear Kelpie whining, howling and finally panting happily outside!

Level 6: Victor the Skeleton Cat:

Honestly? This might be my favourite of how the layers turned out. Victor had a total of 7 sound layers (the largest of the levels), and appears around the 37 minute mark!! There was so much going on that I wanted to make sound the way I picture it. Anytime Victor moves, the sound of his footsteps can be heard (either as claws on the wood/desks, or as little pads on the carpet), AND you can hear the rattling of bones layered over it too, since they click together when he walks! Eventually he meows a little bit (I like to think Ulysses doesn’t give him as much attention as he wants and he wanders over to the listener) before curling up and beginning to purr beside the listener for a while! Then, laced on top of the purring is a slight clicking, breathing noise, since he doesn’t need to breath, but I like to think that his purrs and meows do have a sort of hollow, clicking resonance, since he is just like… all bone-

ANYWAY I hope people enjoyed reading me talk about that I adore audio editing and soundscaping and this was super fun to work on! Who knows maybe I’ll do something like this for Virgil, Leopold, or even other Fable characters at some point, if there’s liked,,, demand for it lol. But I hope people enjoyed both the ambience video and the behind the scenes explanation!

#fable smp #fablesmp #fablesmp ulysses #audio editing #asmr #ambience #youtube

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forpiratereasons · 11 months

Text

meeting stede bonnet

a slow meandering through June. fourth prompt: rainbows!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10

“The fuck is that?”

Rough start to the morning, if Iz was in this early. Ed didn’t look up from the drawing he was fiddling with: an ice cream cone, couple of sprinkles. Cherry on top. He hadn’t done this sort of thing since his apprenticeship.

“Had lunch with a guy yesterday,” Ed said. “Reminded me of an ice cream.”

Izzy frowned. “Not your usual style.”

That was probably the nicest thing Izzy was physically capable of saying about it. Ed ignored him, picked a turquoise from his palette. Thought of the ring Stede had been wearing. Big ring, big hands. Broad shoulders. Built like a fridge.

Ed wanted to open him up. Rummage around inside, a bit. See what else was in there.

“Thought I might do a little flash sheet,” he mused. “Something for Pride, maybe. Summer vibes.”

Izzy snorted. “You’re a bit beyond that, don’t you think? People don’t come to Blackbeard for little rainbows and smiley faces.”

No, they didn’t. Mostly they came to see Blackbeard for blackwork: sprawling geometrics, florals cut from endless blackouts, abstract patterns sweeping over skin like laying down lace. It wasn’t tā moko like Ed had set out to do, it wasn’t even usually kirituhi—but it was something. It had made his name.

It had made his name so well, in fact, he hadn’t done flash in years.

But the progress pin Stede had been wearing stuck in Ed’s head, and he was suddenly itching to create something, to transform it. He’d whipped out a dozen designs overnight: old school flags and diamonds, winged hearts and roses. Even a fucking unicorn.

Anything that could be filled in with pride. With colour.

After twenty years in Blackbeard’s black lines, black fills, Ed was aching for colour. Pinks and blues and purples, deep emeralds, rich indigos. Soft oranges and brilliant aquas and slashes of red. All of it.

The whole goddamn rainbow.

“Maybe I want to do little rainbows and smiley faces for a bit,” Ed shrugged. “Change of pace, Iz.”

Izzy wasn’t big on changes of pace. Izzy changed paces at around the same speed as a fish trying to grow legs and fund a retirement plan.

Stede, though.

Stede had a bookshop that Ed knew had only opened a couple of months ago, a tan line on his fourth ring finger, and a penchant for fiddling with the pin on his chest, like he was checking that it was still there. He talked about his life like it had only just started a month ago; he’d changed paces so fucking fast, it seemed, he’d left the whole fucking road behind.

Like it was that easy. Like you could just do that: change everything.

Izzy snorted, fucked off to the front desk. “Have you got that geometric done for tomorrow? Client’s in at ten.”

No. Not even half the draft. Boring as hell. “Yeah.”

Turquoise ice creams weren’t boring. Ed tried to think what flavour that might be as he deepened the shadows on the twist, laying colour down in waves: blue raspberry, probably, or cotton candy. Bubble-gum.

Could be anything, the Stede in Ed’s head chimed in. Marshmallow. Almond. Just vanilla. Did you know—

Ed didn’t know, so he couldn’t think of what Stede might say, but he was pretty sure Stede’d have something. Stede had a lot of something to say. Ed had only gotten three hours worth, sitting on that bench by the water and eating hot dogs, but he felt like he could’ve spent three days, and when Stede noticed the time Ed had caught him by the hand and said, d’you wanna do something weird? before whispering a question into Stede’s ear.

I’ve never, Stede had stuttered.

First time for everything, Ed had assured him, and Stede had turned pink, turned red.

Said, yes.

Ed had kissed him. Three hours that should’ve been three days, and Ed had kissed him, brief and chaste, just at the corner of his mouth. Kissed him, and split away, laughing, said goodbye in front of the arcade and all its flashing lights.

First time for everything, Ed had said, but he hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

“Hey, Iz,” Ed said, picking out a pink, a red, for the cherry. “What’s a good spot for a first date?”

#darcy writes pirates #ofmd #gentlebeard

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breannasfluff · 10 months

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Quick question, how do you write so much? I fight the words for an hour and have maybe 2 paragraphs of garbage but you pump out really nice work almost every day??? I have so many ideas but I can’t write them for love nor money

I write almost every day, or I take a break and switch it out for drawing. I generally can write a chapter in one go, so usually stock up some backlog to cover days I’m busy. Having multiple stories now means I don’t have that backlog of some, so updates are a bit slower.

As for writing tips:

1. Remove distractions. Shut discord, exit out of tumblr, mute your phone. When you are stuck, don’t go scroll social media. When writing, the only thing I touch the internet for is if I need to check a story item, like a character name, item history, etc. I cannot overstate how important this is. If you are talking to your friends, you won’t have a writing flow.

2. Do not edit as you write. Writing and editing are two different tasks. You switch between creative and critical thinking and it breaks flow. This is a scientific process and you can read more about it here.

Research electroencephalogram (EEG) suggests both heightened electrical brain wave activity and elevated dopamine levels during flow. In other words, your brain experiences both electrical and chemical changes when you’re “in the zone.”

But once you switch to self-editing mode, you move to the critical thinking side of your brain. You halt all of freewriting’s creative electrical impulses and pleasure-sensing dopamine levels. Your mind flips off one switch and turns on another.

3. Set a time, then be done. Give yourself 20 minutes and write as much as you can. Doesn’t matter if it’s garbage. You can edit garbage into something useful or you can chuck it in a bin. Just try to write, then take a break. Staring at a blank document for two hours isn’t going to make words appear and it just stressed out your brain.

4. Have an outline. Sometimes a magical idea just flows when you sit down to write, but generally not. Have an outline of what you want to have happen in your story or chapter. It doesn’t need to be in depth; for most of my oneshots I literally have a sentence or two at the top of the page. The story needs to have a goal. For example: Wild tries to teach Hyrule cooking. It doesn’t go well. Bouncing ideas off friends can be a big help! It’s why you’ve probably seen me post about prompts and suggestions, and sometimes stories are gifted to people. Talking through plot ideas can help you get a better outline or idea of action.

Misc notes:

Hate to say, but some of it is just practice. I’ve been actively writing for a little over a year with some breaks on and off. Making it a habit is a big thing for making it easy. It’s harder to restart after a break.

When I first started writing I tried to pick one aspect to improve for each story. Filter words, pacing, varying sentence starters, story arcs, etc. Fixing multiple things at once was too much work, but one item at a time was doable.

Filter words make such a huge difference in writing; I encourage you to look them up. It’s a PAIN to remove them in post, but it also taught me to cut them out. Now it’s unconscious and while some still show up, I tend to write them out automatically.

You can learn to write quickly, but if you don’t also work on quality you’ll just…write a lot. That said, it’s fanfic. Sometimes it’s just for fun and quality doesn’t matter. I’ve got plenty of stories that will never be posted because they are just for fun.

Some of it could be writing speed, too? I use a bot a lot of times for timing and tracking and generally average 30-35 words/min. Harder story topics are slower to write, like angst and emotional scenes.

I’m actually writing less this year than last, but I don’t put as much time into it. It also keeps it sustainable as a hobby, although I definitely hit periods of frustration. It can get overwhelming.

If you search my blog for the tag #writing advice or #writing tips, you should fine some other things as well.

This was rather frank, but hopefully helpful! Feel free to drop further questions and I’ll do my best to answer 💜

#asks #writing advice #writing tips #writing #creative writing #fanfic writing

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djarins-cyare · 1 month

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WIP Wednesday!

✨Featuring: a taste of smut and a poll✨

Tagged by @beskarandblasters today (thanks Kel!) and @burntheedges literally like 4 weeks ago but I’ve been working 80-hour weeks and am really behind with interactions (so thanks Kate and sorry this is late!) 💙

They’re slightly different templates, so I’ll use the one with more detail and a poll because that’s always fun…

STEP ONE: post snippets of the fics you’re working on (can be a summary if there’s no snippet) STEP TWO: put them in a poll and let people vote on which one you should work on

There’s some NSFW content, so under the cut if you please…

As usual, I’ve given you far more than is strictly necessary, but you can’t shut me up, so here you go…

1. From To See A Thousand Things (guns n’ angst – the winner of my last WIP poll):

“What was that word you just said? Did you call me something rude?” “Kaan’goran. It means ‘weaponsmith’ in Mando’a. I don’t know your name and that’s what you are.” Oh. He says it matter-of-factly, but you’re strangely disappointed somehow. Maybe it’s time you introduced yourself to the man you’ve been anonymously fucking for over a year. This is a night of firsts, after all. “Well, you can call me—” “Don’t,” he insists, surprising you. Your face instantly falls, wondering why the hell that’s the arbitrary line he’s drawing in the sand tonight. But he sees your dejection and sighs, offering an explanation. “In my culture, names aren’t used flippantly. They’re titles, and they’re used as such: a full name to denote one’s clan when necessary, but otherwise rarely spoken. Those individuals who have a job of high standing are referred to by their professional titles – jobs that provide for the whole tribe rather than just their individual clan. To a Mandalorian, a weaponsmith is a noble profession. You forge the implements we defend ourselves with.” Okay, that’s… weirdly sweet. Oh… no. Oh hell no. Fuck off warm fuzzy feeling that’s rising in your belly. This will not do! You furrow your brow, confused and slightly annoyed about… well, basically everything, from his intentions to your emotions. Time to clarify. “You’re... complimenting me?” “I’m… respecting you,” he counters carefully. You can’t help the small snort of amusement that makes its way unbidden through your nose at that. This is definitely a night of firsts.

2. From an unnamed lengthy oneshot (starts a little angsty but builds to fluff and a helmet reveal):

“Din?” you try. His helmet jerks slightly at his name, but he doesn’t look. You deserve more, so you demand more. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.” He shifts uncomfortably and shakes his helmet a little. Was that a response? A refusal to talk? Try being more direct. “Hey. That’s not fair. You don’t get to touch me like that and then pull away without saying why.” “That’s the problem,” he responds, voice like steel. “I know it’s not fair. I shouldn’t have touched you like that.” There’s something bitter in his tone, and it poisons the air between you. But you still don’t understand, and the ache in your chest festers higher. “I wasn’t complaining,” you try. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that?” For some reason, your hesitancy about crossing this line with him has vanished. You think he erased it when he groped your ass just now. “Yes, I know,” he snaps loudly, suddenly sounding angrier than you’ve ever heard him. “Do you know why it can’t happen?” You shake your head, too surprised at his sudden fierceness to respond verbally. Actually, you have some idea (a lot of ideas), but you’d rather hear his explanation. But you don’t get an explanation. You get a dismissal. “Then you don’t know me very well at all.” And with those acidic, modulated words, he turns his back on you and marches into the canyon.

3. From Final Sanctuary (interestingly, this was the second-lowest rated in my last WIP poll, so I’m giving you a whole little smutty section to see if that’s still the case):

He takes several bites before he remembers she wants his opinion, and he swallows and resets the helmet, glancing up at her. She’s watching him, chewing slowly with what he can only describe as a smug smile on her lips. “Good, huh?” she prompts, punctuating her question with another bite. He’s about to respond when her bite causes a bit of the white dip to ooze out of the bread and smear across the corner of her mouth. Dank farrik, his brain instantly leaps into motion and flashes a full and detailed sexual fantasy before his eyes in a matter of milliseconds. …his hard cock between her warm lips, pressing deeper into her mouth as she moans and sucks his length… She clearly feels the rogue smear of dip, but with both hands clutching the bread, she utilises her tongue to recapture it, a wanton pink delight darting out of the corner of her mouth and Din swells in his pants. …she licks and flutters around his cockhead, massaging the sensitive spot underneath and undulating it along the bottom as she sinks lower again… But the viscous white liquid has dripped farther than her tongue can reach, leaving a smear a little way down from the corner of her mouth, and he intently focuses on it. …the perfect confluence of pressure and suction brings him right to the edge of ecstasy, and he orgasms hard, filling her mouth with so much cum that it leaks and spills down her chin… Before he’s even aware he’s doing it, Din is reaching for her. He sees his hand extend across the crate between them, but he can’t stop it. She’s hunched low to reach the food, and the crate is small, so he doesn’t have to learn far, and although her eyes widen in surprise, she doesn’t flinch or pull away. His thumb only hesitates for a second before wiping up the dip, but it hovers there for longer afterwards, coated in white and unsure how to proceed. …she swallows his cum, and he wipes up what spilled out, pressing his thumb into her mouth so she doesn’t miss a drop, and her tongue eagerly licks it up… Just as he makes the rational decision to withdraw his hand, she turns her head, aligning her lips with his thumb, and a rush shoots through him… but he’s already in motion, retreating back to his side of the crate. It’s too late. Would she have done it? Licked his thumb? Dank farrik, he’s so hard over the possibility. Thankfully, he’s pretty sure that between his loose pants and the cross-legged position he’s in, nothing’s on display, plus he’s sitting close to the crate anyhow. Neither of them has spoken yet, although he’s not sure if his voice works right now. Still, he has to answer her question about the meal, so he rasps out the only word that comes to mind. “Delicious.”

I have several others, but these are the fullest, although they’re incomplete and unedited.

Feel free to send me an ask or leave a comment if you want to discuss these any further!

A few NP tags: @ceapa-mica @penvisions @papurgaatika @for-a-longlongtime @draculasfavoritewife @whxtedreams @alltheotps

I'll just get comfy and wait for the poll results...

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vega-creates-things · 11 months

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Muse (Part 4)

ROTTMNT Leo x GN/Rabbit Yokai!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Embarrassment, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis: You've been visiting Run Of The Mill Pizza maybe a little too often just to see the blue clad turtle of your affections and draw him. You're pretty sure he hasn't noticed you at all, bad news for you, he has and he is far too curious about why you watch him.

A/N: Hey all, just letting you know I am so sorry It has been a while since I wrote anything for this fic. I’ve just been super busy and stressed from job hunting, so I haven’t had the time and also just…. I haven’t been in the mindset to do anything but drink coffee and stay up way later than I should doing nothing but staring at a ceiling lol- but I digress. This is a repost from my old side blog since I wanted to make a main blog for this stuff. This is maybe going to be the second last chapter (that’s up for debate lmao). Now that all that is out of the way, shall we?

♡♡♡

Fidgeting nervously as you stop walking for what feels like the first time in hours, you pull your phone from your jacket pocket and click it on, going back and checking your last few messages with Leo.

Cobalt Blue: Hey, just a reminder, meet me at the brick store

Cobalt Blue: Shit, sorry, had voice to text on 🙄

You: THE BRICK STORE.

Cobalt Blue: Is that even a thing?

You: Does Home Hardware count?

Cobalt Blue: Donnie says no. I say yes.

You: Gotcha… Where am I meeting you then, if not the BRICK STORE.

Cobalt Blue: Central Park, the popcorn cart.

You: There’s a popcorn cart called Central Park? 🤔

You: I jest. I’ll meet you there.

Cobalt Blue: Awesome! 4:00?

You: Four o’clock.

Cobalt Blue: See you then!!!

Tucking your phone back away after you reconfirm the location you were meeting each other, you look around the area you’re in, wondering if you were close to the popcorn cart at all, giving the air a subtle sniff to see if you could even smell it, thankfully, due to your improved sense of smell, you catch the faintest hint of butter and fresh popcorn, swiftly heading in the direction it had come from.

Once you’re on the path, it doesn’t take too long to get there, and, as luck would have it, you got there before Leo did- or at least that was what you thought before you heard him offer a bemused chuckle to your right. Startled, you look over to the opposite side of the cart and blink in surprise at the turtle who is dressed in distressed black jeans with matching black undershirt that is form fitted to his torso and then to top it all off a fur lined brown leather jacket and a beanie. He looked… amazing. You could feel your fingers twitch with the desire to draw. You resist the urge to pull your sketchbook out of your messenger bag.

Leo beams at you and makes quick work of crossing over to where you were stood, dumbfounded. “What a pleasure it is for you to join me.” He offers teasingly, lightly nudging you with his elbow as a cocksure grin spreads across his face. “And only— twenty minutes late.” He tutted, completely pulling that number out of thin air, and yet you still nearly check your phone- the action causing his expression to become even more smug.

Instinctively, you punch him gently in the arm, rolling your eyes before offering him a faint smile. “It’s ten to four, you ass.” You chuckle. “I’m punctual.” You insist. “And you’re a lot earlier than I thought you would be— I didn’t strike you for showing up early to things-“ You muse, noting how he had started walking already so you quickly catch up with him, intrigue painting your features since all you knew about this evening was that you were to meet here.

“I’m early when it’s important to me…” He offers nonchalantly, refusing to meet your eyes, even when you stop moving again, he simply stops and waits for you to catch up. When you do, he already has his bravado back up and that stupid smug grin again. “So, I was thinking, maybe we walk around here a bit, then go to the art exhibit? I hear they’re staying open later than usual today?”

“Leo-“ you begin, stuck on him calling this important to himself. You furrow your brow, lightly brushing your hand over his shoulder. To get him to at least look at you. You hardly register that he is still listing off different things the two of you could be doing today. “Leo.” You try again, noting how he seems to only scramble for more things to list off.

“We could go try out the coffee at the new cafe that just opened up? Go to the art store? I’ll get you any one item you waaaant? Something in the hidden city- we could watch the Battle nexus? You know I won that with my dad once- we were up against Kraken Tom and the Evil Six. No? Yeah, I knew that wasn’t your thing… We could-“

This time you cut him off by walking in front of him, having had to do a quick jog to do so, and then you gently grasp him by his shoulders, forcing him to stay in place. He still refuses to look at you, his eyes locked on the ground between you both. Hesitating, you step a little closer, shifting your weight onto your toes so you can stand a little taller, nudging his face up with your hand so you can look at him. For the first time you see a nervous edge to him and even despite his efforts to keep his eyes from meeting yours, it’s inevitable. You swallow thickly, taking in a sharp breath. “What has gotten into you, Leo?” You inquire, tilting your head again. “I’ve never seen you get like this before- you’re usually “mister cool”.“ You try to explain, wondering just why it seemed like him calling this whole meet up “important” to him, seemed to be the catalyst for his suddenly jumpy behaviour.

Instead of explaining, he offers a weak chuckle. “Answer hazy, try back again later?” He offers the magic eight ball quote casually. The moment Leo sees you frown, he sighs. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you lightly brush your thumb along his cheek pausing when you see him lean into the action. You stop the simple motion and let him press his cheek firmly into your soft hand. “What did you mean when you said this was important to you? And why all of the jumpy behaviour?” You ask, noting that since you’ve stopped in the middle of the pathway there are people giving you annoyed looks. Taking that into account, you do your best to guide Leo with you onto the grass, trying not to break contact with him.

“I dunno.” He shrugs, trying instantly to force a smile. You respond with a serious expression and he instantly lets the expression drop as he pulls back and crosses his arms, taking a step away to try and centre himself for the conversation. It takes a moment, but soon he is facing you again. “Look, I just… really enjoy being around you- I can’t help it if I got excited and jumped the gun on showing up.” He offers, and, well, it wasn’t exactly the response you expected, nor did it entirely make sense, but it was close enough for now. “Aaaaand, I’m not being “jumpy” that’s your job. You’re the rabbit, here.” He sticks his tongue out.

Offering a light chuckle, you sigh. Clearly, you won’t be getting the real answer right now, but, to be fair you still had never answered his question about your sketchbook, though in the time you had gotten to know him, you were painfully aware of how observant he was, so the idea that he somehow DIDN’T know, and was just waiting for you to be open about it was almost hard to believe now. You still let yourself believe it though. “I’ll let it slide this time.” You muse, gently nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder in a lighthearted fashion. “Now, you said something about buying me “any one item” from the art store?” You reminded, smirking at the way his expression went from relief at you dropping the topic to instant surprise.

Chuckling timidly and rubbing the back of his neck, Leo gives you a crooked grin and murmurs, “IIIIIII didn’t think you were paying attention-“ blowing out a small breath of air, he shakes his head. “Art store it is?” He inquires, watching you with a gentle fondness as you carefully adjust how your ears are sitting under your own beanie- carefully drawn back to almost mimic medium length hair.

You link arms with him, allowing yourself to be cheerful about the evening ahead of you again, you hum in reply, having gotten your ears situated to your liking. “I think they actually closed a few minutes ago- if I’m remembering correctly. You can buy me a coffee though? You said a new cafe opened?” You muse, knowing full well the store hadn’t closed, but you would honestly rather sit with him drinking coffee over anything else right now. Just getting to sit and talk together would be nice.

Leo nods, already guiding you back onto the pathway to walk with him. “I can definitely do that, it’s not too far away actually-“

“Almost like you planned it.” You tease, casting him a playful look. “Or like you knew how much I love coffee and would never say no to getting some.” You add sweetly, batting your lashes up at him.

Laughing whole heartedly, Leo gently squeezes the arm you have locked with his and shakes his head. “Maybe the last option, I don’t normally plan things too far ahead- that’s Donnie’s whole shtik.” He muses, splaying his fingers out and wiggling them slightly to emphasize his words. The moment you start giggling, he can’t help but lean towards you, using his free hand to gently squeeze the shoulder not pressed against his plastron as he chuckles along with you. He releases you pretty quickly, but it isn’t sudden, it’s more that he was satisfied with the length of the makeshift hug- plus the awkward position. “So are we playing guess the coffee?” He inquires.

“You bet your ass we are!”

The author isn’t good at writing walking exposition so time skip baybeeee

This was it. Your chance to stump Leo. Stepping up to the counter first while Leo stood off to the side so he couldn’t overhear you, (his order for you already in hand) you lock eyes with the barista who nearly backs up at the intensity of your gaze, having never experienced it’s intensity before like the employees at your favourite coffee shop normally had. “Medium hazelnut latte with a shot of vanilla and a shot of espresso.” You state as if it weren’t even a question.

The woman nods, dipping her head slightly as she attempts and succeeds to input your order before looking at you. “Anything else?” She inquires, voice a little too low for most people to hear, but for you it was easy.

“Yes, two cake pops. One strawberry, one chocolate.” You insist, watching her input that as well before she lists off the price and then instantly nudges the payment terminal over to you once you had pulled out your card to show it to her. You tap it against the chip reader and then fish out a five dollar bill, putting it into the tip jar for her with a calmer smile that seemingly throws her off. “Thank you!” You muse, accepting the order ticket as well as the bag of cake pops she had promptly handed you before stepping to the side to wait for the drink.

You glance at where Leo is leaned up against a wall, and gave him a thumbs up which he returns enthusiastically. Turning your attention to your bag, you dug your hand into one of the front pouches and pull out a sharpie so that you can cross out what the order was on the sticker once you receive the coffee.

While you wait, you look around. The walls are decorated with a rich terracotta wallpaper, the floors a deep, almost chocolate brown, wood alternating parquet. There were potted plants strewn about the room, some hanging from the ceiling, others neatly decorating windowsills where enough light poured through to reach them. There were a few bookshelves that matched the colour of the floor and were set up to divide the space- they were filled with books and magazines. It was all in all a very cozy space and all you could think was that it would make the perfect place to come every morning and relax- maybe do some art studies.

“-order number 317?”

You glance at the ticket in your hand, snapping yourself out of your thoughts and then perk, walking over and thanking the person who had made the coffee before stepping aside and scratching out the order on the sticker and throwing out your receipt. Wandering over to Leo, you noticed he seemed to be doing what you had just moments before. “It’s really cozy in here. Great location, Leo.” You comment, nudging his hand gently to let him know you were ready to swap drinks.

Perking, Leo nods in agreement, gesturing to the nearest empty table which was settled near the back of the cafe, tucked into a corner next to the window. “We swap over there, that way you can put your stuff down and we can get comfy— wait, did you get us a snack too??” He inquires, tone drastically shifting to pure excitement by the end of his sentence.

You nod, letting him practically herd you to the table. You laugh, noticing some of the amused stares and chuckles you got from other patrons, deciding to humour them by shrugging and grinning. “He’s food motivated.” You offer playfully, earning a bit more laughter. “Like a puppy.” You hum, glancing at the turtle in question as you sit down in the chair he had pulled out for you.

“M’rabbit.” He offers, trying to sound suave, but grimacing almost immediately. “That doesn’t sound as flow-y as “m’lady” he mused, scrunching his face up in displeasure before backtracking to what you had offhandedly said, “the cutest puppy though.” He grins, sitting in the chair across from you and setting down the brown takeaway cup in front of you while you did the same with the one you had.

You nod sagely to his statement, noting how haphazardly he had scratched out what his order had been with a pen he had no doubt asked to borrow from the barista. “Something like that.” You muse with a half smirk, pulling out both cake pops with flare. “Chocolate or strawberry?” You offer, noting the way he seemed to contemplate before answering.

“Chocolate, of course.”

“Strawberry, got it.”

“Exactly. See? You get it.”

“Mhmm, I know you so well.”

Grinning, Leo accepts the chocolate cake pop you hold out to him, observing it for a moment before- in contrast to your own actions- shoving the whole thing into his mouth at once, and almost looking like he regretted that decision instantly.

Taking the time to eat yours calmly in two bites instead of one as your counterpart had done, you have less of a struggle. “You’re such a goober.” You claim, a fond note to your voice as you observe him trying to get the cake pop down. Deciding to be nice, you get up for a moment, walking to the counter where there is a self serve water jug, filling two glasses before returning, handing one over to Leo before you set yours down.

He drinks it almost immediately, the liquid helping to break down the snack and then he is gasping for air. “You are a life saver,” he insists, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. After a moment he murmurs something about being too warm, and slips his jacket off, laying it over the back of his chair. This, of course, leaves his muscular arms exposed for your viewing pleasure, not something he had considered, but its obvious that he notices your gaze lingering a little too long. He smirks. “Are you checking me out?” He inquires, playfully wiggling his brow before striking a few poses.

An instant laugh leaves you at his actions, though you can’t help but feel your face heat up from being caught red handed. “No! I just didn’t realize how ripped you are! It’s a little startling!” You muse, starting to play with one of your ears by running your hands down it to smooth the fur there. “I mean— I know you’re strong, you’d have to be to have beaten Kraken Tom and such, but it’s still a little startling.”

“So you heard EVERYTHING I was rambling earlier?!” He inquires in disbelief.

“I listen when it’s important.” You counter, noting the moment it takes for him to process what you had said and how you had somewhat turned his earlier words back on him. “And everything you say is important to me.” With that said, you pull the plastic splash pick from the opening of your cup and put it into the paper bag your cake pops had been in. Taking a moment to carefully swirl your coffee just in case it hadn’t been mixed properly (something you had dealt with from multiple coffee shops in the past) you focus your attention on finally trying the drink. Sipping tentatively at it for fear that it was still too hot, you took a moment to savour the flavour, setting the cup down again.

Leo watches you with a flushed face, your words still ringing in his tympani. He cast his gaze towards his own coffee, following suit in swirling it around to mix it and then removing the pick from his own cup and discarding it much the same as you had done with your own. He seems to think for a moment before speaking up with a more amused tone than you would have expected, “everything I say?” He inquires mischievously.

Pausing, you narrow your eyes at him, realizing you had perhaps made a mistake by saying that.

“What about if I said applesauce belongs on dino nuggies?”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“Do it, coward. You won’t.”

Instantly you straightened in your seat, making direct eye contact with the slider as you gently kick him in the shin. Afterwards, you level your expression to a bemused and almost mocking grin. “What was that about me not doing it?” You chime in a sickeningly sweet tone.

The slider narrows his eyes back, watching you sip your drink and waiting for you to set it back down before he returns the gentle kick. “Ohoho, you’ve done it now.” He retorts with no malice at all behind his words.

It only takes a moment longer for the battle of gentle kicks to come to full effect and neither of you seem to care that your legs will be bruised after this. You’re having a little too much fun despite everything, but after a few minutes more, the kicks begin to stop, and without even realizing it, your actions become more gentle and more along the lines of playing footsies with each other, your foot brushing lightly over his ankle and his gently nudging you in return.

It’s only when you’ve been staring far too intently at each other, that you move to reign yourself in, face heating with a warm blush as you quickly cease your actions and sip your coffee again. “So- um… I definitely taste cinnamon in here-“ you begin, forcing yourself to focus on deciphering this instead of focusing on how absolutely smitten Leo looks.

Blinking himself out of his stupor, Leo clears his throat and stretches by rolling his shoulders before leaning back on the table, his arms crossed as he watched you. “Hmm? Oh- oh. Yeah. Cinnamon.” He nods, glancing down at his cup again before returning his gaze to you as he waits for you to decipher the drink.

“Cinnamon chai latte with whip?” You inquire, forcing your brain to stay on track. When did it get this hard to focus on anything but him? Seriously. You knew you liked him, but you needed to control yourself, lest you spring forward and kiss him right then and there.

Leo nods, humming in a way that seems somewhat forced and yet resolute. “I don’t get how you’re so good at this. How did you guess that? I didn’t think chai tea would be that obvious.” He asks, curiosity bubbling in him despite the obvious lack of focus he currently seems to have.

You shrug, resting your elbows on the wooden table top and twining your fingers together so that you can rest your chin on them. “I noticed the slight flavour of pepper and ginger— it has that sort of bite to it that lines up with chai.” You inform, pausing to chuckle slightly. “Also when you say “chai tea” you’re technically saying “tea tea”. Just a fun fact.”

Snorting in amusement, Leo stares at you in bewilderment. “I will never understand how you fit so much smarts into that head of yours.” He sips his own drink momentarily, looking contemplative before quickly speaking again. “So you’d just call it chai then?” He inquired, watching you nod to confirm before he is sampling his drink again. “Tastes a bit nutty- so thinking about the kinds they normally use to make drinks…. Hazelnut?”

“Mhmmm-“ You hum openly, inviting him to continue his train of thought.

He takes another sip, really trying to get a feel for it, even closing his eyes as he does. “I’m also getting—“ He brings the cup to his nose and gives it a few sniffs. “Vanilla?” He looks to you for confirmation, and once he has it he gets right back to work. “Hazelnut and vanilla… mhmm. M’kay. M’kay- espresso-?” Leo is incredibly focused, and the expression he makes while trying to figure it out is so cute you almost cave and pull your sketchbook out to draw it, but you hold yourself back as he finally seems to come to a conclusion. “Hazelnut latte with espresso and vanilla?”

You smile gently and clap for him. “You got it!” The confirmation causes him to light up as he opens his eyes again, locking gazes with you as one of his hands reaches out and firmly squeezes yours for a second before he pulls it back.

After the game is over, you both fall into comfortable silence with each other, both of you leaving one hand on the table in silent invitation to the other as you pick your different methods of filling up time when you’re not quietly chatting.

Leo surfs his phone, you take to absently drawing on your napkin with a pen you had fished out of your bag, not wanting to risk using your sketchbook here and now. It’s calm, relaxing, and you can’t help but smile every time the slider gets excited over something he sees and quickly shows you it.

It’s during one of those moments when he rests his hand over your free one to get your attention, that he notices that you’re drawing a little picture of him and things start fully connecting in his head, but he says nothing, focusing on the task at hand and redirecting his gaze to your face just in time to catch you looking at him inquisitively. “Did you know there’s a breed of goat that faint whenever they hear a loud noise? Just-“ he makes a big open gesture with his arms, breaking contact with you as he speaks, “-BAM! Goat down!” He grins.

Smiling instantly, you can’t help but chuckle at his theatrics. “I didn’t know that, that’s pretty funny though. Is there a video?” You inquire, tilting your head and then nearly squeaking in surprise at the sudden speed he uses to get up and stand directly beside you. You nearly miss the way he excitedly mumbles something about being “so glad you asked”.

The moment he is properly situated behind you, he rests his head on your shoulder and slips his arms around you so he can hold his phone on the table in front of you both. You don’t mention how you could hold the phone for him, too caught up in his warmth. He glides his thumb across the screen, hunting down what you assume is the video at the top of the article, and then once he has it, he clicks play.

The video is short, less than a minute long but it shows a man clapping and the goat fainting which causes the both of you to laugh at first, and then the questions start springing forth.

“Do you think it hurts them to faint like that?” You begin. “What causes it to happen?” You ask, leaning yourself back against Leo’s plastron until he finally pulls away, presumably to pull up the information you’re looking for. He doesn’t move far, just sort of adjusts his position so he can easily lean against your chair with one hand and hold his phone in the other, typing the question in quickly.

After a moment of waiting for the results to load, he hums and starts reading, “the Tennessee fainting goat breed has a hereditary condition called myotonia congenita—“ he begins, grumbling to himself a bit as he tries to focus on reading the sentence before finally shaking his head and handing you the phone so you can read it. “I keep wanting to read the same thing over and over-“

You nod in understanding, taking his phone carefully as he settles back in behind you, this time using your head as a chin rest. “The Tennessee fainting goat breed has a hereditary condition called myotonia congenita, a disorder that affects the skeletal muscles, which are used for movement.” You read calmly, pausing to frown and click something else related to that. “Many people wonder if it hurts the goat to faint, but rest assured, they’re not in pain. However their condition does have the potential to distress them because it can keep them from running away from things that frighten them. So avoid frightening them just to see them faint.” By the time you’re done reading, the both of you are frowning. “I feel like an asshole for laughing now-“

Leo nods in agreement. “Yeah… but, I mean- If it helps, we had no idea until we looked it up. In reality the guy that made the video is the asshole.”

You hum in response, still frowning. Leo pockets his phone and then brings you into a big hug and almost instantly you’re filled with a sense of comfort and calming. You find yourself leaning back into him heavily, just like earlier. “Thanks.” You mumble.

Leo nods, giving you one more big squeeze before he moves to sit back down. “Anything for you.” He replies without missing a beat, polishing his coffee off before resting his hand on yours again to still provide reassurance.

“Cheeseball.” You reply lightheartedly, turning your hand to softly squeeze his in response.

Leo smiles and dips his head in half bow, quickly glancing up at you. “The cheesiest.” He insists, thumb tracing gentle patterns over your knuckles. Pausing, the slider frowns, his phone beginning to buzz. Glancing down at the device with disdain, he checks the caller ID and sighs, giving you an apologetic look only for you to shake your head and gesture for him to answer it, assuming it’s probably one of his siblings.

He frowns a bit more, but gives in and nods, picking his phone up and answering the call, stepping away somewhat before he starts talking.

You can’t help but listen in after a few minutes, having noticed the exasperated l pinch to Leo’s face as he talks to whoever it was. You feel a little guilty, but you chalk your nosiness up to concern about his emotional wellbeing.

“Guys, I told you not to call me right now-“ he grunts, rolling his eyes as he listens in on what the person- or persons? Are saying in response. “No- you know said today was important— No! I wasn’t joking. UGH. Raph- Raph, no.”

Quirking your brow ridge slightly, you can’t help but wish your hearing was better so you could have an even better grasp on this conversation— even if you know it’s probably not good to be listening in, in the first place. You try and distract yourself, going back to sketching to keep your attention in a more respectful place of not eavesdropping.

After a few minutes more, Leo comes back to the table and sits down again, grumbling as he sets his phone down after presumably putting it on ‘Do Not Disturb’. “Sorry about that- my brother’s forgot that I was going out tot day and were freaking out— and then they wouldn’t hang up.” He muses, noting that you were doodling again, this time around, though, he leans forward to get a good look. “Who are you drawing?” He inquires, still trying to get a better look.

Shaking your head, you let out a calm hum, nudging the napkin over to him so he can see. “Sounds like a chaotic time. I’m sure they were just worried though.” You muse, resting a hand under your chin as the calm washes over you again. “Just some characters I’ve been thinking up- silly really.” You shrug, finishing your coffee as you watch him pour over the drawings.

“Yeah, I know they were just worrying, but I wish they would listen when I tell them things sometimes- I mean… seriously… It’s not like I didn’t tell them I was going out. I did! Three times!” He huffs, getting frustrated for a moment before he shakes his head and dispels that energy, choosing to focus on what you had said about the drawing. “You thought these up? They’re so cute. They look like they could be in a children’s book.” He insists, tracing his fingers over one of the designs.

Sensing the first conversation wouldn’t be going anywhere further, you mostly set it aside, but not before saying gently, “I mean, you did say you guys never usually go too many places without each other, maybe they just assumed you hadn’t because they didn’t I don’t know- I can’t really speak for them since I don’t know much about them.” You chew the inside of your cheek gently, leg bouncing. “Anyway though— umm… yeah I actually want to make kids books, still in the starting part though.”

He nods, running a hand over his face, nearly shifting the blue eye mask out of place. “You’ve got a point, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He pouts, tapping his fingers on the table. “So, you should tell me about the book idea you have.” He points out, stretching his hand across the table to take your hand in his own again.

Biting your lip, you try and reign your thoughts in, looking at the tabletop for the time being until you begin to speak again, telling him all about your idea in as much detail as you can, though, for the moment, you mostly have details about the characters, and you can just tell by the look on Leo’s face that he is enthralled and enamoured with the idea which makes you feel a lot more confident about sharing this with him. You had been working on this for forever at this point and had never actually shared it with anyone.

By the time you’re done speaking, Leo is practically bouncing. “I love the characters, especially Leaf! He’s so precious— and his favourite thing being stamp collecting?? It’s such a nerdy hobby, but its really cute to think about a leaf having a stamp collection! What if Shooting Star got him stamps from space!?” He gushes, visibly bouncing in his seat— it was almost like he was vibrating.

Giggling in response, you shake your head, smiling fondly and briefly glancing to the side at one of the potted plants by the counter in thought before you returned your gaze to the turtle. “I’m glad you enjoy it so far.” You begin, “maybe you’d want to help me with it a bit— you know, go over what I have eventually? I think any input you could give me would be really helpful.”

Leo blinks in surprise and then gets flustered, chuckling as he looks out the window at the people passing by. “I don’t know if I would be much help— art is more my brother Mikey’s thing, you know?” He admits. “But. I’m happy to look at everything!”

You roll your eyes and squeeze his hand gently. “I think you’d give me great advice, even if it’s not your strength, I mean just letting me know if you like it helps, or mentioning if something looks like it should be different- even if you don’t know what it is.” Tracing a small heart into the back of his hand absently, you shrug. “-but if you’re honestly not comfortable with that, I won’t force you.”

Mulling it over, he hums and returns the gentle gesture of squeezing your hand. “I mean, I guess I could, I mean the idea of being the only person looking it over is pretty cool!”

You’re about to speak when he suddenly nods and chimes in again.

“Yeah, you know what. I’ll do it. If it would make you happy, I’ll do it.”

—

First , Prev , Next

#tmnt muse fic #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #leonardo hamato #leo x reader #rise leo #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rise leo x reader #fan fiction

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woso-fan13 · 2 years

Text

I’m back! With the highly requested:

Roadtrip (pt 2)

“Guys, be quiet, I think she’s waking up.”

“She better not, I can’t handle that.”

Well now you have to wake up. You lift your head slightly and look around.

“Where am I?”

“This, my friend, is the middle of nowhere.”

“Kelley, be serious, where are we?”

“I want to say Ohio. Maybe Idaho? Somewhere like that.”

You hear a laugh from behind you, Christen.

“Kelley, we’re in Indiana. Have you blocked out the entire drive?”

“I wish I could have. But nope, I’ve been stuck watching this peanut sleep for the past 2 hours.”

That shocks you awake slightly, “I slept for 2 hours?! I didn’t even do anything today. That’s wild.”

“At least you slept through most of the drive,” Alex says, “we have only like an hour and a half left.”

“And then we’re there?”

“Then we’re done with driving until we have to drive back,” Alex responds, “and I’m not driving next time.”

“Who am I with then? Can I ride with the other kids again?”

“I think Becky’s still trying to figure out who gets stuck with you on the way back.”

“Tobin! That’s not very nice. I’m a pleasure to be around, my teachers said so.”

“You are,” Christen agrees, “just not really in confined spaces.”

“That’s fair.”

—-

“Alex?”

“What’s up?”

“Are we there yet?”

She sighs, “obviously we’re not, we’re only ten minutes closer than the last time you asked.”

“Y/N, want to watch a movie with me?” Kelley finally chimes in before Alex kills you.

“Yeah! Can I pick?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

She waits until you have your headphones in before turning to her other teammates, “don’t worry guys. I got us into this mess, I’ll get us out.”

“Kelley, come on, the movie‘s playing!”

“Seriously, Y/N? Miss. Congeniality, again? You’ve already made me watch it 4 other times.”

“It’s a good movie! Now shh, it’s starting!”

Looking over your head, she mouths ‘you owe me’ to the rest of your teammates.

Kelley, feeling her phone buzzing, looks down. The group chat is going wild, she has to scroll up to find where it starts. The first picture is of you fast asleep, curled into her. She has to admit, it’s pretty cute. Immediately following that is a picture of the two of you watching a movie. You are completely absorbed in the screen, Kelley not so much.

Following this, it seems like all of the girls are responding. The older ones think it’s adorable, the younger ones are arguing whether you were watching Mean Girls or Miss. Congeniality.

Kelley texts back a simple, ‘It’s obviously Sandra Bullock and I’m NOT adorable.’

Swiping back to see her other texts, she sees a message from Becky. Looking to make sure you’re fully occupied by the movie, she clicks into it.

“I spoke to Carli about it, she agrees that it isn’t right. I think she might come talk to the coaches with me tonight. Do you know who it was specifically? If any of them tried to stop it? Really any information you know would help.”

Kelley responds with the little she knows about the situation. You hadn’t told her about it, you hadn’t actually told anyone about it. She was just coming into the meal room to get some papers she left when she heard them talking to you. The way you responded told her that it wasn’t the first time you had heard this. Kelley had ‘accidentally’ kicked a chair, drawing everyone’s attention to her. This allowed you to make a quick escape, avoiding Kelley for the next few days.

Kelley looked over to where you were intensely watching the movie, a sad smile forming on her lips. She put her arm around your shoulder and pulled you into her side. You looked up at her with a questioning look, but she just gives you a small smile and shakes her head. You snuggle into her further, completely content. She presses her lips to the top of your head, closing her eyes for just a moment.

You didn’t need to be going through this, but she would be with you the whole way.

—-

Arriving at the hotel, all of the girls looked at you. You were fast asleep, deep into your third nap of the day. They knew you wouldn’t wake up- at least not easily- so Kelley pulled you into her arms as she climbed out of the car. Leaving the bags for the others to get, she heads to the entrance.

The captains are waiting by the door, having arrived first. Kelley walked up to Becky, cradling you still.

“Stick your arms out,” she says.

“What? Why?” Nevertheless, she complies.

“Here, take this,” Kelley says, transferring you gently into her arms, “she’s light. I’m worried, Becky.”

Becky stays silent for a moment, looking down at you before speaking.

“I am too. I texted Coach that we need to have a meeting later, hopefully someone can explain what the hell is going on.”

Carli chimes in at this point, “how bad is it? Do we need to be just a little concerned or do we need to worry?”

Instead of answering, Kelley takes you out of Becky’s arms and deposits you into Carli’s.

Carli is holding you for less than 10 seconds when she looks up, “we need to worry. We need to talk to the staff and the team and fix this.”

—-

An hour later, you had woken up from your nap and dragged a majority of the girls to the hotel’s pool. Now you were splashing with the other youngsters in the pool as the older players sat on the edge with their feet in the water. They were perfectly content to watch you all have fun and avoid the splashing.

Noticeably missing were Kelley, Becky, and Carli. Kelley had demanded on joining the meeting, but neither capitan was going to protest the extra support.

The three now walked up, sitting besides the others poolside. Alex looked to where Kelley had settled next to her, noticing the lack of swimsuit and sad look on her face.

“You okay?” She asked her friend.

“I’m okay. She will be,” Kelley responds, nodding her head to where you were currently sitting on Lindsey’s shoulders, trying to push a Rose-Mal tower into the water.

—-

Later that night, you had showered and were dressed in pajamas. You had talked to Kelley and the captains earlier, discussing everything from the meeting. You had a plan in place, and a support system by your side.

Now, you had something even better. You were somehow swaddled in a pile of soccer players and blankets. The room was dark as a movie played on the tv. You had managed to migrate onto Christen, using her chest as a pillow. You listened to her heartbeat as your breathing slowed down. Her fingers were gently brushing the hair back from your face and Tobin’s hand was rubbing lazily up and down your back. Everytime you blinked it was a little harder to open your eyes. So you gave into gravity, becoming weightless and falling into dreamland.

Everything would be okay.

#woso imagine #womens soccer #woso community #woso x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt players #uswnt woso #uswnt x reader #woso imagines #reader insert

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leafofkudzu · 1 year

Photo

Hi! A bit short notice, but with the new year I’m planning on holding myself accountable for all the little event-related plans I’ve been making, the first of which is to work on setting up/hosting a GW2 art party!

What is an art party, you might ask? They’re common occurrences in the Final Fantasy XIV community, where artists of all kinds get together to chat, hang out, and create together! Spot a person you know or a character you like the design of? Draw them, take some screenshots, make some gifs, whatever you feel like! The ‘goal’ of attending an art party is not to be drawn, but to draw others, and share with the community! To that effect, we’ll be using the tag #VSArtParty over here and teeechnically on Twitter for those who still use it, so that others can easily find our creations!

This is my first time hosting a non-meta, non-raid related public event, so I’m intentionally keeping it small-scale by only posting about it here and in my guild discord, and when the time comes it’ll be in a private squad not listed in LFG to discourage any potential party-crashers. Should it go over well, expect to see me hosting ones every month in varying locales and maybe even with different themes!

Check under the cut for a bit more info on the location/times!

So I had previously asked people where they think a good setting for an art party might be, and uninstanced home instances with decent lighting were brought up, so I set my sights on the asura home instance in Rata Sum since I rarely see that used for anything. If you have a flying mount, it’s easily accessible by going straight northwest from the main city cube! Otherwise, you’ll need a Teleport to Friend to get over to the spot:

As mentioned before the cut, I fully intend to rotate between various other suitable locales for future events, but wanted to start here since it feels private enough to not be in anyone’s way unintentionally. It’s also open and well-lit to allow everyone to see each other clearly, which is definitely a plus considering we don’t have a way to inspect characters for a better look.

Regarding the date/time, I polled my guildmates on which night of the week would be best if we were to be hosting a recurring event, and Saturday came through as the best option for us. We have a tendency to base our stuff around in-game reset +/- 1 hour, so the same thing is at work here. Since we’re an NA-based guild, the event will only be hosted on NA servers, but if there’s interest I’d be willing to organize earlier events for people on EU servers in the future! There’s no set end time for the event since it’ll likely peter out on its own after a bit, but from my experience at FFXIV art parties I’d say to expect it to last maybe 4-5 hours at most.

Aaand finally, about the squad itself. Like I said before the cut, I’m going to keep the squad set to private and out of LFG to keep things a bit more chill, so to join you can either whisper my main, Teekzi, for an invite, or type ‘/sqjoin teekzi’ in chat to automatically pop in and get into the right instance!

That’s about all for now, expect me to reblog this a few times between now and the party! See you soon, hopefully! ♥

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #i am only mildly stressed thinking about hosting stuff #but i've been to a few friends' events and it was neat so here's hoping!!#obnoxious tourist simulator #vsartparty #📢🎨

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yuraslefttoe · 5 months

Note

hey, it's me again! I came to pester you with questions!! *there should be a scary laugh, but it sounds more like mean giggles*

(by the way, I’m thinking about sending you such long texts with questions (because I have a lot of them!!) once one or two weeks, if you don’t mind. . . . . . .you don't mind..??? (god, I hope you don’t get tired of me..!) I'm so sorry, please, I'm just very interested!! *qwq*)

ok, let's start with the sweetest part, prelude. ACTUALLY, I DIDN'T EXPECT THAT YOU REPLY SO QUICKLY, GOD, NOT PASSED A FEW HOURS!!!!!! I THOUGHT YOU HAD TOO MANY QUESTIONS SO I DID NOT EXPECT A SO SOON REPLY!!

I’ll remind you once again how much I adore your work (after all, you deserve it!!), and I’ll also say that I specifically shouldn’t talk about posts tagged with the adm, because I’ve read your tumblr and twitter in its entirety several times, I even have a separate album in my gallery with answers that particularly interested me, there are several hundred screenshots there and I don’t regret anything! (sorry if my hyperfixation may be intimidating!!)

*=^._.^= ∫*

and now the questions!!!!

1. my wife doesn’t have a tumblr, but her suggestion interested me and can be seen in the first two screenshots(the translation sounds like: “after the release of “red hour” I have an assumption that andrey is more... athletic than misha. either this is because of ferry’s drawing style, or he really has such wide shoulders")so now we are interested to know about the physique of your characters!! maybe some of them are thin, or vice versa, a little overweight. and what about physical training? did you have any headcanons for this??? ( by the way, when I ask about “characters” I mean not only misha and andrey, but also europe and maya, because they are also worthy of attention <зз)

2. what about the abbreviation "dyusha" for andrey? in russian it is... not used very often, but still, it sounds very cute. so it would be interesting to know how you would feel about this? 3. I also want to hear about the names of the characters!! how did you choose them? I mean........ how did it happen that from ☺europa☺ you switched to 👹MiKhAiL👹?? (I'M SO SORRY, BUT MISHA'S FULL NAME SOUNDS SOMETHING THREATENING. MY UNCLE'S DOG HAS THE SAME NAME EHE- *ᕕ(ಥ▽ಥ)ᕗ*)

4. and lastly, let's return to my wife for another moment. she suggested that andrey was now also in a time loop. what do you say about that? and also in enigma, she noticed that misha seemed to be addressing the second person in the lines: "and if you wanted to be anything more than just free" and "you’ve seen a hundred lies I see that all the time". is this second person a viewer? or maybe one of the previously mentioned characters??

the last photo, by the way, is one of the sketches that I found so far in my gallery! ^^

initially it was planned to attach two sketches, but andrey turned out TOO bad, I’m ashamed to show him. someday I'll redraw it into something normal.... maybe. but! I really like the pic with misha and the wolf(I hope this is the wolf you were talking about lol. google didn’t show me anything else, and I’ve never been to ikea myself, ehe...)

(and I don’t want to post all this yet, because running a tumblr was certainly not part of my plans, haha)) I registered here solely to read your blog, and not to maintain my own)

sorry again for possible illiteracy, and also for the chaotic nature of my thoughts, haha, I don’t know how to adequately express them in english.. and also, I’m really REALLY apologize that the text was too long, next time I’ll try to be shorter...

okay im gonna try and answer everything here in a coherent way so sorry if nothing makes sense

im just fine with lotes of questions :) answering asks and responding to comments is one of my favorite things ever and i brings a verry big smile to my face

on andrei: i consider him to be a skinny little gut but not exactly unathletic, and in addition i think he would have basic combat training and probably be good with firearms. misha is probably a very average bodytype, nothing special, not particularly athletic.

i do not speak russian (though ferry has recently encouraged me to learn so maybe in like four years ill be able to form a sentence) so i dont know anything about the short forms so you can do whatever you want. if you coin it and peoples tart calling him that i will not stop it from happening

i do not name my characters, i usually let me friends name them (i think that the only one i named was europa and his partner). going forward maybe ill try to make it more cohesive

the time loop idea im seeing thrown around alot is really cool and while i havent particularly wrote any of my songs about that in general i see it fitting into the loose narrative i have going on. also in enigma misha is definitely talking to andrei whenever he says the word "you" but it could also be to the listener because the entire theme of enigma is 4th wall breaking and meta shenanigans like that

that sketch is SO CUTE oh my god

#asks #adm #misha #andrei #deepest lore

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starry-miki · 4 months

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⭐️ Get to know the artist! ⭐️

(+Obey Me! Questionnaire)

Here we are again… back again with another year down. Wow time really does fly by doesn’t it? My Anniversary for my tumblr was back in August but I was not really active until near the end of the year, (sorta) So I’ve decided to welcome the new year, with a ‘get to know artist’ post. I should’ve done this a while ago but I didn’t think of it till now. 😘

I will warn that this is much longer then intended, so maybe a 10 or 15 minute read, also warn of some profanity but mostly for phrases.

I will be answering basic art related questions and Obey Me! Questions near the bottom. (Which is the part that is much longer than I intended it to be)

Basic questions

Hello everyone, you may call me Miki, I’m a Obey Me! (Mostly a side characters) and OC artist. I don’t have a preferred pronounce so you may refer to be however you like!

Age: old enough to commit tax evasion. (Adult) 😘

Favorite color: good question I don’t actually have one I think lots of colors are pretty. 🥰

Birthday: April 5th (Aries?)

How long have I been drawing?

I’ve been drawing for about 3ish years, however the first year and half was on and off.

Would I be a good art moot?

If I’m being honest I’m more shy and people scary me, so if you would like to be friends you might need to approach first…. But I do have small surges of courage to message first sometimes! How my friends would describe my personality…

“The one with no care in the world that just tags along for the ride and accepts their fate” -Questionable TikTok post sent by my by friend.

To be honest I’m all over the place with my art….

Commission?

I have been thinking about open commissions and I think I will some time this year, but I’m a bit of a noob with rendering so I will practice before then!

A Fun fact: I’m a cat in a human’s body and need at least 10 to 12 hours of sleep to feel full rested, this also causes my sleeping schedule to get messed up. :P

What type of crime would I get arrested for?

Arson, honestly fire is so pretty when it burns things…. Has a weird magical feeling when you watch it….

An art advice?

I’m honestly still an artist noob so take what I say with a grain of salt. But for those starting out drawing, don’t worry about finding your art style it will develop in time while you learn and improve as well when you discover your likes and dislikes. I know one of the common advices usually given to find an art style is to reference off your favorite artists, it can work for some but for many others this advice doesn’t work, sometimes it can create a perfection of wanting to copy someone else art style or getting frustrated that it doesn’t look similar to your favorite artist style. But I promise patience and practice will pay off, don’t be afraid to indulge a bit out of your comfort zone and explore different styles, besides you may find yourself surprised with what you discovered.

Obey Me! related questions!

What and when did you play obey me?

I start back in early April, I kept getting ads for it on my Instagram and at some point I got tired of seeing it (and thought somebody in the universe really want me to play the game) and decided to play it, I didn’t think much about it and it was mostly something to kill time and I could have deleted it later when I got bored.

Did I mention that would be almost 4 years ago? (April 3, 2020)

Which of the brothers and side characters would I get along the best?

If I’m being honest I feel like I would get along with the majority of the cast, there always seems to be something I have in common or could do with the characters, I’ll start with the brothers first and also keep it short.

Lucifer: listening to classical music together or attending classical music concerts.

Mammon: ??? (actually the least brother I have common with)

Levi: video games, discussion of franchises and theories, etc.

Satan: appreciate cats and learning new things and intake of knowledge.

Asmo: I’m a rat so I love me some gossip while also doing self care. 😘

Beel: late night food runs or sneaking in the kitchen late a night to eat something (I do that in RL anyway)

Belphie: honestly sleeping buddies and anti lucifer club but I luv luci but still would like to occasionally join in the pranks. 😘

Diavolo: I honestly wouldn’t hang around with Diavolo if I’m being honest… just not much in common and other factors but I’m not going to elaborate.

Barbatos: I love me some good tea, some delicious food, pastries and barbatos company. 🥰

Simeon: honestly reminds me of some type of nice coworker and would just see him occasionally. (Still a pretty boy tho)

Luke: I’m the second or first sweets tester, I’m eat up those pastries and protect the bby. 🥹

Solomon: It works and I won’t elaborate. But I will say I will be with Solomon and Barbatos on a hot summer day with the AC on full blast cause we can’t stand the heat. (I heat up so quickly and are much more prone to a heat exhaustion, so you probably guessed that summer isn’t my favorite season.) 😘

First character crush?

If I’m being honest I didn’t really had one? But I had a very light crush on mammon. If that counts for anything.

Current crushes?

This should be a no brainer but old man and surprisingly barbs. Which i feel like many wouldn’t know since I rarely draw him (exact a few times) or ever mention me having a little crush about him. 😗

Favorite obey me outfits or event?

I would say the chief/apron from the brothers and for event I think the vampire event is my favorite. 🤔

(I’ve already started running out of questions so I went to the B LOV questions to rizz you up lmao.)

B’s log question. From (2022) Devildom Homework

(I also skip some of the questions cause they have already been answered or I got no answer)

Link for the OM! Cast B’s Log (I recommend reading it, but not necessarily):

Things I like:

making sure I try to end conversations or interactions with people feeling happy or feeling positive. (Which definitely has drawn bad people but I have been more careful and selective) 😘

Favorite item: (like food???)

Homemade banana milkshake, fruits and pastries. 🥰

What you secretly think about the person you love:

how did that happen??? 😀

Your motto?

1. Sleep it off.

2. fuck around and find out until you find the solution (or create a new problem or make it worse). 😘

3. Everything is going to be okay, eat some sweets and try again. ☺️

Love Questionnaire.

Be the first one to confess love is what you will… do.

Be possessive is what you will?

“Won’t do, and don’t want to be possessive over either” -Solomon

Tbh same. 💀

Be jealous is what you will?

Do not. I find jealousy to be such an ugly emotion to feel and would like to avoid or completely eliminate the feeling when it rarely occurs.

A love with obstacles is….

honestly a pain in the ass but it honestly depends on the type of obstacle and if I love that person enough.

Days that you think about the person you love so much that you can’t fall asleep… do not exist.

Times when you can’t be honestly convey your feelings. Does not exist

—-

Devildom borderline:

Devildom charm distribution chart (self assessment ver.)

Dead set in the middle just a little bit to the reliable.

Please explain your choice on the chart!

If I’m being honest I don’t really find myself cool, cute, spoiled nor reliable. I’m more neutral? I mean if group projects count I guess I would be a little reliable? I’ll do my part of the project but I don’t really ask others if they need help with their work load but I do with friends though.

Tell me! Your borderline!

Border line of “Horror”- which on is more scary?

(1) 24hr long lecture from lucifer

(2) bungee jump form the highest mountain in the Devildom without a cord.

(3) other. “When you are thinking about eating a certain food in the fridge and when you get to it, it’s already been eaten. My day is ruined” 😔

Borderline of "Don't wanna do" - Which one would you avoid?

1. Asmo's 1-day photograph assistant

2. Beel's 1-day cook

3. Others. “Hurting people’s feelings and stomping their happy mood, I prefer someone to discuss about rocket science if that’s what they are passionate about and not understanding what they are talking about. It’s rare to see people have pure passion in something and talk about it excitedly, I never wish for that passion or excitedness to die out.

Borderline of "Wanna try" - Which one would you prefer experiencing?

1. 1-day Demon King

2. 1-day Devildom Spy

3. Others. “I honestly want to walk around nature solo and in different landscapes, maybe walk in a flowery meadow in the evening with pretty pink and purple evening sky or walk through a dark cloudy evening forest with light snow gently falling.”

Borderline of "Blessed" - Which one makes you happier?

1. People surrounding are smiling.

2. Enjoying yourself from the bottom of your heart.

3. Others. “I would say all of above and possibly more, happiness is a fleeting feeling and can sometimes be difficult to feel in everyday life, any way to achieve even the smallest of happiness even if it’s from the most simplest things is good in my book.”

Borderline of "Cheating" - Absolutely, not allowed!

1. Holding hands

2. Meeting eyes

3. Others. “Depends on the circumstances” :P

-End

What would you do once Obey Me! Reaches to the end?

Cry, that would be my thirteen reason why, I wouldn’t be able to handle it, AND ILL KEEP THE ANSWER SHORT TO NOT THINK ABOUT IT. 😔😭

Well I think that’s enough questions to answer! I hope the questionnaires give you a little insight about me. This year I do hope to be more active and post just a bit more the i have from last year. And for those who made this far let me know what your responses are for the B’s Log questionnaire! Happy New Year to everyone, and may you be blessed to a wonderful year! ☺️💕

#get to know me #get to know the blogger #artists on tumblr #digital artist #happy new year #☺️

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spnfnaf · 4 days

Text

Story of Us// Tomark

I’ve decided to create a Tomark story since the world needs more Tomark‼️ this story will take place from 1992-currently. I hope you guys enjoy!

TW// Light cussing!, mention of broken bones.

June 1st, 1992 at 5;40pm in Poway, California.

16 almost 17 year old Tom Delonge sat in his room, listening to his records. School was out and he had nothing better to do at the moment. He might ride his skateboard around for a while before the weather turns shitty. His older brother, Shon, was currently at his girlfriend's house. Kari was having a sleepover at her friend's house, and their parents were out of town for the week. So Tom basically had the whole house to himself for now. He liked it when no one else was home. He enjoyed the peaceful feeling.

He could hangout with Scott. Scott was a few years younger than Tom, but he was pretty chill. They went to school together while Tom was still in middle school. Scott was going to be a freshman this coming year and Tom was going to be a junior. Tom's sister, Kari, would be in Scott's classes with him. They sometimes hangout whenever Scott is at the Delonge household. Scott only lived a few blocks down from Tom so it wouldn't be much of a walk. He soon got up, turning his record player off. Tom soon threw on his Descendents shirt along with his jeans and his converse. Grabbing his skateboard, he made his way down the steps and out the front door. Once he was outside, he hoped on his board, making his way to Scott's house. The sky was cloudy, but luckily it wasn't raining yet. He didn't mind the rain, he actually loved it. But, when he's trying to skate. Him and rain aren't the best of friends.

Once he made it to Scott's house, he noticed a few of their other friends were there. Including an unfamiliar car that he's never seen before. Weird. He thought to himself. Tom made his way into the house, seeing a few of his friends. He also saw Anne Hoppus. He knew her only because one of his friends was dating her. She lived in Ridgecrest, which was a 3-4 and a half hour drive. He was impressed that she made her way from there all the way to Poway for a little get together.

Anne soon noticed Tom and smiled a bit. She made her way over to the other. "Hi, Tom! I have someone for you to meet." She said. Before he knew it, she was dragging him outside to where a few people were. She took him over to a boy that looked very similar to her. "Mark, meet Tom. This is the boy I was telling you about. Tom, this is my older brother, Mark." She introduced the two. The boys looked at each other in awe for a moment before Mark spoke. "Nice to meet you, Tom. I heard you play guitar. That's pretty cool." He said with a soft smile. His eyes are so pretty. Tom thought to himself. He nodded and smiled a bit. "Yeah! I do. I've been playing for a few years now." Mark smiled a bit more. "That's cool, I play bass. We should totally jam out sometime." He said as he examined the taller male. Mark seemed to like this kid already. "Hell yeah, man!" Tom said.

Anne smiled as she watched their interaction. "Great! Now Mark has someone new to annoy for the next few days. I'll leave you two to chat. I'm heading back inside." She said before soon walking off.

Mark watched his sister for a moment before looking back at Tom. "So..uhm, what's your favorite things to do?" He asked, getting his packet of cigarettes out. He offered one to the other. Tom accepted it, wanting to seem cool to the other male. He really didn't know how to smoke, but maybe he could fake it. "I like to listen to music, ride my skateboard, sometimes draw, watch horror movies, and also learn anything and everything about aliens and other cryptic creatures." Tom was such a nerd when it came to aliens.

Oh my god, this kid is a nerd! But, I like him. Mark thought to himself as he listened to Tom speak. He giggled a bit at the mention of Aliens. "Aliens? Really? Well whatever floats your boat I guess. Don't worry, I think that's pretty cool. I've never really met someone who believes in that stuff. Well..minus the crackheads at the gas station." He laughed.

Tom laughed a bit before he smiled at him. "What about you then?" He asked as he watched Mark light his cigarette. The lighter was passed to him once Mark was finished. He took a drag from his cigarette before he spoke. "Well, I like playing bass, also skateboarding, listening to music, goofing off at college, annnnd..watching movies."

College? How old is he? Tom asked himself before lighting the cigarette. He soon handed Mark's lighter back to him as he took a hit from the cigarette. He attempted to inhale, but failed which caused him to start to cough. He cleared his throat before letting out a sigh. "You said you like goofing off in college..how old are you? Not to sound rude or anything. I'm just curious." He said.

"I'm 20, about to be 21 in March next year. What about you? You're not 14 are you? Cause if you were then you're pretty tall for a fourteen year old." He joked with him. The other shook his head softly, giggling a little. "No no, I'm 16 about to be 17 in December. Dude, try seeing my family. I'm literally the tallest one! I don't get it." He laughed.

Mark laughed as well before taking another hit. He was really starting to like Tom. Maybe they would become great friends. Maybe he could pull off that party trick of his. "You know what? This party or whatever is kinda lame. Do you know a place we could go?" He asked.

"I mean..we could go to my place? We can listen to music and chill. My parents and siblings aren't home so we basically have the house all to ourselves." He offered, hoping that Mark would want to hangout with him. Mark smiled and nodded. "Sure! Why the hell not. I'll just have to tell Anne I'm going with you for awhile."

Once the boys went inside, Mark told Anne where'd he would be in case she needed to get a hold of him. He didn't fully trust her being with her boyfriend, but he knew he couldn't be protective over her for forever. When him and Tom made their way outside, Tom got on his skateboard, looking over at the older boy and smiling at him. "Hop on, I don't want you to try and keep up with me." Mark smiled a bit as he accepted the younger boys offer. He held onto the taller males shoulder as he stepped onto the board. Once he was adjusted, he placed both hands on either side of Tom's waist. This caused Tom to blush a bit. He did have to admit, Mark was pretty cute. The two soon took off. They both smiled a bit as they enjoyed the ride. After a while, the boys eventually made it to the Delonge's house.

Once they got off the skateboard, Mark looked at Tom with a mischievous look on his face. "Wanna see a party trick of mine?" He asked. Tom nodded and smiled a bit. "Sure, what is it?" He soon watched as Mark began to climb up his light post. He laughed as he watched him. What the fuck is he doing? He can't be serious.

He thought to himself as he watched. Meanwhile Mark was trying to impress Tom with whatever at this point. So why not climb a fucking lamp post? What's the worst that can happen? I'm sure this will impress him. Mark thought to himself. Once he made it to the top. He looked down at Tom with a big smile. "Look, Tom! I bet you can't do that!" He laughed a little. "Now watch this!" He said, soon jumping off the pole. When he landed, he let out a painful scream. "FUCK!"

Tom watched in shock as he witnessed it. He rushed over to Mark, "What happened?!" He asked, worried. Mark groaned in pain as he sat on the ground. "I-I think I broke my heels. They fucking hurt dude." He said as he looked up at him.

What. The. Fuck. Tom thought to himself.

#tomark #tom delonge #mark hoppus #blink 182 #fanfic #travis barker #90s #2000s #budha #chesire cat #dude ranch #take off your pants and jacket #all the small things #i miss you #always.

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enbyleighlines · 13 days

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Damn I had a long, rough weekend.

(exasperated ramblings under the cut)

Actually, it started before the weekend.

I recently switched insurances because I now make too much for medicaid, a process that took several months because why not?

But finally I had insurance and I could go see my doctor, yay me!

They upped my dosage of zoloft, because I’ve been super irritable lately and I think it’s mostly burnout from work, but it had been a long time since my dosage had been adjusted, so I thought it probably wouldn’t hurt.

I start taking a higher dosage, work still sucks, but I feel a bit better, so yay.

Then a few days later, I get a letter from my insurance saying that they will not pay for my zoloft, because it’s not on their list, and I will have to find a different anti-anxiety medication.

My doctors receive a similar letter and message me, asking me to schedule a time for another apt so that we can work on that.

Fuck that, I do not want to go through the emotional turmoil of trying a different anti-anxiety med. It took a long time for me to find one that works for me, and I don’t want to go thru that process again, esp with all the stressors currently in my life.

So I tell them, pls just let me stay on this for now, I will pay out of pocket, I don’t have the time or energy for this at this moment.

Flash forward, and it’s time for me to get a refill of zoloft. I’ve already been paying for it out of pocket for those months I didn’t have health insurance, so I knew it was gonna be costly, but I think it’s worth it. I ask my doctors for a refill, as per usual.

That was on Thursday.

Unfortunately, due to my adhd brain, I forget to go grab my prescription from the pharmacy. But that’s okay. I can go one day without zoloft. I’ve done it before.

But by the end of Friday, I knew I needed to pick up my prescription. I don’t want to go two days without zoloft, or else I start to feel funky: brain zaps, headache, nausea, etc. And of course there’s the anxiety and depression coming back, stronger than ever.

So I remember to go to the pharmacy on Friday afternoon, after work.

Except… they don’t have my prescription.

I call the on-call doctor, and ask them what happened to my zoloft.

They say they sent it to hannahfords.

I’m at cvs.

I haven’t used the pharmacy at hannahfords in the past 4 years, because I moved, and now cvs is closer.

Weird, but fine.

I could go to hannahfords, but I would have to take the bus, and it’s raining super hard, and I don’t want to walk from the bus stop to hannahfords in the pouring rain.

I ask cvs if they can transfer my prescription. They say sure but not right now. We can do it tomorrow.

Alright, well that’s fine. I can pick up my meds in the morning, and then I will still have only skipped one day. No biggie. Feeling relieved, I head on home.

The next morning, I return to cvs.

They say it’s too early, they just opened. They can transfer my prescription later in the day. They will call me when it’s done.

Alright. So it looks like I might be skipping another day of my meds. It sucks, but okay.

The hours go by. I don’t get a call. I focus on drawing and watching anime, and I try not to think about it.

The evening finally comes. My head is starting to hurt a little bit.

I get a call.

Good news: cvs successfully transferred the prescription.

Bad news: they are out of stock of my medication and will need to have it shipped in. It may take a couple of days.

I can’t wait two more days.

I have a panic attack.

I calm down. I tell myself I can go to cvs tomorrow and see if they can help. Maybe they have some zoloft in the back? Idk, I just need enough to tide me over until the shipment, and I’m desperate.

I go to cvs. I tell them my predicament. They are sympathetic but their hands are tied. They have no zoloft. They tell me to maybe check another pharmacy. Except it’s Sunday, so the closest pharmacy that’s actually open is…

Hannahfords.

Well, okay. It’s a beautiful day, no rain, so I don’t mind taking the trip.

I get to hannahfords. I say hey can you please transfer my prescription back here so I can have my medicine.

They say, sorry. They’re out of stock, too.

They’re also all out of zoloft???

Except, no. The woman at the desk explains they have plenty of the 100mg tablets in stock.

I say great, I take 2 of those a day, per my doctor’s instructions.

But that’s not what is on my prescription this time.

The prescription my doctor wrote says to take 1 200mg tablet a day. And yes, that amounts to the same, the woman explains, but because your prescription asks for the 200mg tablets, I can’t give you the 100mg ones.

I can order the 200mg tablets for you, she tells me. It will take a couple of days.

Now that’s just infuriating.

I ask her, please, is there any way I can get my zoloft sooner?

She tells me I can call the on-call doctor and have them change the prescription from 1 200mg tablet a day to 2 100mg tablets a day.

So I do.

And finally, finally, on 2pm on Sunday afternoon, I get my medication.

God fucking dammit.

Why was all of that so complicated???

#vent post #what a headache #i’m glad it’s over #but my god that was a challenge

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thychesters · 1 year

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#wipwednesday! the pine trees fic/zoro pining was posted yesterday, but in editing it i cut out nearly uh, 10k of extra bits and pieces, so technically there are 3-4 missing scenes. this was one of them! ft. a conversation between usopp and zoro that got a little too long and disrupted the flow. the entire thing still needs some polishing, but i’d like to post them at some point?

the context is that in the scene just prior to this, luffy sat on zoro while he was doing push ups got a little too handsy just to mess with him. or at least, that’s what zoro’s going with. usopp’s not having it. || text under the cut:

“Are we gonna talk about it?” he asks, head bent. He has his bandana tied up higher to keep his hair out of his face. He also calls this the golden hour, says it’s great for drawing, but Zoro doesn’t really see how since it’s such a short window and it’ll be dark soon.

“No,” he says.

Usopp makes a soft ah sound but doesn’t push it beyond that.

It’s comforting then, because he genuinely does not want to talk about it, perfectly content with burying it away in a hollow in his chest until he draws his last breath. A bit melodramatic, yes, but his … longing for his captain will remain only that: something kept to himself. He will not cross that line.

“I don’t think it’s the worst thing ever,” he says, because woe for Zoro to think he wouldn’t actually bring it up. Luffy wasn’t exactly subtle and apparently Zoro didn’t school his expression as much as he thought he did. His projected annoyance clearly wasn’t strong enough, even though annoyance had been a big part of it. Usopp’s too aware and Chopper was too blissfully ignorant and entertained by their antics.

“Right,” he mutters, because it’s actually a terrible idea. He’s not as stupid as Nami and Sanji like to say he is.

Usopp smudges some charcoal with the side of his thumb. “When I first joined up I got the impression there were more to things than you guys let on. You didn’t say anything outright, and maybe it was just me putting too much stock into your dedication, so, y’know, I didn’t want to say anything. I’ve seen the way the looks at you though.”

“He doesn’t look at me like that,” Zoro says, voice sounding perfectly level, he thinks. He doesn’t want to talk about this anymore, but then he’d never wanted to talk about it in the first place.

Usopp finally turns to look at him, stares right into him in a way that makes him want to growl, bite back that maybe he should mind his own fucking business, that he knows he’s a liar but he should know when to cut the crap. He swallows and turns away.

“If you say so.”

This time Zoro does growl, or at least mutters something indelicate because he kind of wants to tell him to fuck off, but that’s a little too harsh.

“I was there, remember?” he says after another minute spent fidgeting with charcoal that oscillates between shading and smudging. His voice is quieter though, like he’s afraid Zoro’s going to overhear, as if he isn’t talking to him right now. “I heard the oath you made to him, Zoro. At this point I think you and I both know there’s a lot more weight to it now than there was before.”

#zolu #kate writes #**#i'm still sad this zoro/usopp/chopper scene got cut but it was also getting too long and didn't quite fit tonally #happened a couple times so technically the pine trees fic sprouted saplings LMAO #this takes place before water 7 too :(

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shortnonsense · 2 months

Text

Old Shoes

by M. James

I was 10 at one point. Now I’m not. I hate that.

My mom says I’m just like her, so I guess it’s written in stone, but maybe there is room to be my own person. My sister is not like me. She seems to know the answers before the questions and doesn’t even care that some of us ask why. But such is the life of the 13-year old daughter of an engineer. Dad says he wanted 3.25 children; I think that’s meant to be an engineer joke, but usually I lose track of time when he says anything over eight words. I wake up suddenly an hour later and I don’t know where I’ve been.

What was I saying?

Oh. 3.25 kids. Yeah, that math didn’t work out, and I have a sister and two twin little monsters—I mean, brothers. Their names aren’t important. What is important is that I used to be 10.

My mom had aspirations once, I think, but now she seems to be happy to get through the day. I’ve seen the degrees and pictures of her PKD (aka pre-kid days), and she looked happier then. I know she loves us, and we make her happy also; it’s just that I don’t think she has spoken with her face lately to get on the same page with her heart.

When I was 10, it was just me and my sister, which meant is was mainly just me. My sister tends to live above us all. Now it’s all noise, and movement, and…where are my old shoes? I’ve been going through my closet for hours, and all I can think about was that I was 10 once. And that is when I went to the mall to buy shoes.

“Clara!” I heard my dad yell from downstairs, and most likely from the garage. I’m sure he’s been sitting in the car waiting on me. I guess I’ll be late again. But I really wanted to wear those old shoes to school today!

“Clara! Get in the car! You’ve had three tardies this month already, and I don’t want to have another meeting with your teacher!” yelled dad.

“I’m coming!” I yelled back.

“…then I told her to mind her own business, but she kept asking. I walked out and told her that I could do what I wanted, that she wasn’t even my real mom…” droned my friend/acquaintance that I’m required to listen to since we are lab partners in third period life science. Her name? Not really important, either. I mean—names just come and go, in the next class it will be another name, going on and on about something they know I don’t really care about, but have to act like I care about it because of all of this forced socializing. My mom says I’m an introvert. I think I just don’t like most people. And I think I just want to get this report done, but I’m the only one working.

“Class, take your seats. Open your text books to page 324. Anyone remember what we discussed yesterday?” shouts Mrs. Life Science Teacher, ending my suffering. Now for the “sit and try to listen to someone else” time. But really, I do like school. I just remember liking it more when I was 10. Now I feel like one of those little metal balls bouncing around inside one of the games they always show on retro shows about the 1980’s. I just bounce from one name to the next, smiling and nodding. Till 4 pm when I get to go back home, to my room, to my closet. Where are those old shoes?

The drive home is quiet. It is March and rainy, which means it’s that stretch of school between Spring Break and Summer with no days off, and everyone, including the teachers, are just trying to get to the end of the year without a major incident. Last year, that one boy got sick after his family trip to Mexico, and he spent several weeks in the hospital. We made cards. What was his name? I don’t remember. I do remember drawing a sun on the card I made him. I don’t know why we draw suns on cards, maybe they’re supposed to make people happy or something.

“BOOM!”

An explosion rocks the car, and I have no idea what is happening. The explosive noise jerks me out of my thoughts, and I find I am now gripping my sister’s hand tightly enough to make her squeal and rip here arm away.

“Hold on!” screams my mom in a way that makes me think she is really yelling at herself. Her usual, casual grip on the steering is now a stern 10 and 2. The car starts to weave and shake as the tire makes this loud throbbing sound. We all start to collectively realize the tire has blown as the car slows to a halt on the inside shoulder of a very busy Interstate 10. Jacksonville is busy at 4:30pm on a Tuesday, and we are no longer in the flow of busy parents trying to pick up their kids between work and soccer practice.

Time stops. Life was going at the speed of a school day, and then nothing. Cars blow by, making us shake with each passing. What now? This is certainly a first. Nothing ever interrupts the drive to and from school, except for that one time I forgot my backpack with my book report on the life of Alexander the Great. I got a C +. But now life has been interrupted. My mom is trying to get my dad on the phone while my sister starts quoting standard procedures for times of emergency.

“Yes, on the side of the road! We’re stuck out here, and I am not getting out of this car in this kind of traffic! We’re lucky we didn’t flip!” my mom blurts as she tries to get all the words out at once to my dad, who clearly has been interrupted from some important work meeting. “Okay, okay, you’re right, we’re fine. Yes, I’ll call our road-side assistance. Yes, we’ll sit tight.” Her words become slower as we all start to settle into the situation.

A few minutes later we all have our eyes locked on little blue and red converging dots that tell us exactly how soon our salvation will arrive. I’m starting to feel like maybe this is the most exciting thing I’ve ever experienced. I have never been in this situation before, and it is so foreign to me. I have seen cars on the side of the road and have wondered what it would be like to be in such a helpless situation; now here we are, here I am. Helpless, dependent on the blue dot to get here as fast as possible. I wonder how in the world this person coming to our aide will even be able to get to us since the cars appear to be going 100 miles an hour, mere inches from my door! We, of course, have no idea what the damage might be to our gold 2010 Camry. It is going to be mine one day, my sister always jokes, because she plans to buy her own, much better car, but now…who knows. That noise makes me wonder if anything is left back there. I had no idea a tire popping could make such a noise.

Finally, an hour later, the dots finally become one, and the tow truck we saw zip by 15 minutes ago has finally swung back around is was slowly positioning itself on the shoulder to get even with our car. While waiting, Mom called several times to yell at several people. I think she really had to pee, and the call center couldn’t solve that particular problem. Turns out there were only two trucks in our part of Jacksonville today, and the other one is stuck in the middle of a 4-car pile up on the 95. Just our luck to blow a tire on Tommy’s day off. That is name of the driver of what would have been the third truck, the one who might have been able to get to us 30 minutes sooner. Which would have been a whole 30 minutes sooner to find out that our car doesn’t just need a new tire, it needs to be towed to the shop to fix the axle, our driver explains.

Tommy. That was a name that was important. Isn’t that odd. A name of someone not there was more important to me than all of those who were there, all the time, and never went away. Tommy was important because if he had been the one to stumble out of his rusted rig I might be that much closer to finding my old shoes. Now, this other guy, who smells like he lives in his tow truck, is trying to work out what the plan will be with my mom, who is getting more and more frustrated. She must really have to pee now.

One more call to Dad, more time waiting in the car, and soon it has been explained to my sister and I that we need to choose. Go with Mom and the Camry in the tow truck, or go with Dad in his car. Not like I get a vote, but it’s nice of Mom to phrase it like I do. As my sister argues the merits of her going with Dad, I watch the tow truck driver begin to hook up the Camry to this big crane-looking thing. Why can’t we just ride in the Camry like normal when it’s being towed? It doesn’t seem like it matter to me whether we ride in the car like normal or ride in the car while someone pulls us. Things like this didn’t ever happen when I was 10.

Jake. His name is Jake. Our driver. It says so on the little patch on his shirt. And just like that I am now aware of two important names. But Jake isn’t important like Tommy is. Jake is important because I cannot believe I am going to have to sit on his gross seat, in his gross truck, smelling his gross smells, all the way to wherever cars go to get fixed when they blow up on Interstate 10 after school on a Tuesday. I slide as close to Mom as I can. You’d think a vehicle that literally pulls other vehicles around would have a back seat, but this one barely even has a front seat! And what surface area that does exist is littered with Big Mac cartons and wrappers from what must be his favorite corner store snack.

My mom and I sit still in the cab of the truck while Jake finishes up. My dad picked up my sister 20 minutes ago and left us to die. That’s probably just me being dramatic. But that’s what it feels like. Why couldn’t we all go with my dad? Great question. But I guess 13-year old girls named Clara who used to be 10 don’t get those kinds of answers.

My mom busies herself on her phone, texting with friends about the ordeal, while I watch Jake in the rearview mirror. There is a radio, which is something. He has it on some station that primarily features people arguing about the recent blowout loss by the Jaguars. I was actually aware of this recent happening since I remember my dad yelling at the TV on Sunday, saying many of the same things these people are conveying. I myself am thoroughly disinterested in football, or sports, or most things people argue about with strangers.

I jump when the door opens and Jake hops in to sit next to me with much more athletic prowess than I would guess a man of his weight could accomplish.

“Hey there!” Jake says through an awkward grin. Something tells me he doesn’t get many 13-year old passengers.

“Hi,” I find myself whispering back, with what is most likely an equally awkward smile. I had been so wrapped up in my critique of Jake’s apparent lack of workplace cleanliness that I had lost track of his movement. I am not ready for this conversation, and now I am having it, and he is way closer than I expected. This middle seat must have been designed for three very small people, not one large man in his mid 50’s, one regular-sized mom, and one me.

“Pretty crazy, right?” Jake asked. “That tire of yours really messed up your back quarter panel. Your car may take a few weeks get it up and running again.”

“Huh,” I mutter, trying to find some similar personal experience that will make me able to in some way say something relevant to the point Jake is making. I fail. This is why we have phones. To give us something to stare at instead of doing whatever we have to do right now. But no, I have to wait another year till that magic age of 14 to have a phone. I guess in six months I’ll be responsible. Until then, It’s just me.

Jake cranks up the engine as we try to ease into the closest lane. Soon, we are up to speed, and I see that our destination has already been loaded into the GPS. To my relief we are in store for a fairly short drive. At least I thought. But at this point my mom states that if we do not stop for a bathroom, she will just have to go then and there. Which is not that worst thing you can hear from you mom while riding in a cramped, smelly tow truck, but It’s probably on the top 10. Top 5 even.

Five minutes later, we pull into a 7-11, where Mom grabs me out of the truck, and we both run to the bathroom. The trip back to the truck is much slower, and mom is evidently feeling much better. We climb back up into the truck, and Jake begins to ease the gas down as we drive back out onto the frontage road. He must have found time to grab another of his favorite snacks while we were in the girls’ room, and as he struggles with the wrapper, I hear him let out what I can only describe as sorrow. “Oh man, this does not look good,” he states, like we are both examining recent roadkill. He points to the GPS screen, and it dawns on me that our route, which was very much green, is now red, and red is bad. In the time it took for our little side trip, something must have changed on our path that turned our quick 20-minute drive into over an hour. Soon we find ourselves sitting in what might as well have been a five-mile long parking lot on the interstate. After several minutes of no movement, we all watch with horror as the time to our destination grows exponentially bigger and bigger. Sirens make themselves known in the distance, slowly gaining volume as they pass by us, rushing to whatever accident has caused all of this, and with that, Jake turns off the ignition. This, in my mind, is the same as holding up the white flag of surrender. Bottom line—I am now looking at over an hour of forced, awkward conversation with someone I never should have even met.

Did I say I don’t like people? Yes, I think I did. And my mom is no help, becoming more and more absorbed in some article she is reading that was posted on her favorite blog.

Jake sighs, looks in the mirror, then asks, “So, how old are you?”

“13,” I say.

“I used to be 13,” Jake states, like it is a revelation from God.

“I have these old shoes,” I say to Jake several minutes later. “I’ve been looking for them for days. They are my favorite shoes, even though I haven’t worn them in a while. I bought them when I was 10. I used to be 10.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this fact about my current state of being. But somehow my conversation with Jake is going differently than the back and forth banter I usually endure from classmates and my sister.

Jake goes on to describe what it was like to be 13, a young boy, being raised by a single mom in North Carolina. He moved to Florida when he was 30 and has bounced around from one job to the next ever since. Never being able to get back to that feeling of unfiltered opportunity like he had when he was 13.

It’s like he is searching for something that he has lost and can’t seem to find it. Now he’s 54, driving a tow truck around Jacksonville 6 days a week, is admittedly overweight, doesn’t have many friends, and often thinks about his life choices that have led him here. But mainly, he remembers that he used to be 13.

I used to be 10. “When I was 10,” I continue, “my dad took me to the mall one day, and I saw these shoes in the window of Macy’s, and I begged him for them. Eventually, he let me try them on, and after some more begging, I was walking out of the store with them wrapped up in this big, expensive-looking bag.”

“They sound nice,” Jake interjects. I know there is no way he can understand the feeling of buying new shoes as a young girl, but it is nice of him to try.

“The reason these particular shoes were such a big deal is that up till that point, every pair of shoes I ever wore had first been worn by my older sister.

“Ah!” Jake slips out, with comprehension that leaves me surprised. “Hand-me-downs, yes, those were common in my family. I was an only child, but with my mom being low on cash most of the time, I got my wardrobe out of a bag of clothes that was left on our doorstep by the family down the street that had two older boys, and they loved to point out the fact that I was always wearing clothes they were going to throw away.”

I let that statement linger a few minutes. We actually get to move forward about a quarter mile before yet another full stop. Another tow truck passes by to hopefully help clear the congestion several miles ahead.

“I wore those shoes every day for the whole school year,” I eventually say. “They were more than shoes, they were opportunity and freedom. They were truly mine, not something that was just mine now. Somehow, though, I lost track of them over the summer—I hardly ever wear actual shoes during the summer since it’s all flip flops and swimming. Then, when it was time to go back to school, there were more shoes in my closet, and I guess I just moved on. But now I’m 13, and I used to be 10, and I just want to find those old shoes.”

Jake looks at me for a while. My mom shifts positions, somehow able to tune out our conversation, aside from occasional comments about this traffic and how she had no idea it would take this long.

Finally, Jake’s eyes brighten, and he seems to have stumbled upon some kind of realization. “I’m sorry you can’t find your old shoes,” he says. “They sound very important to you. It is difficult growing up, leaving things behind, figuring out the new things.”

I look at him sideways, wondering how he jumped to that conclusion. I was talking about my shoes. I just want to find my old shoes. I wasn’t talking about growing up, or whatever.

Jake goes on. “I used to be 13, and the world fit inside my bedroom. One day I turned 14, then 15, then 16, and suddenly the world didn’t fit anymore. My world had gotten larger, but sometimes I’d think back on what it was like to be 13. I still do. Just like I think about what it was like to be 25 and 40. When I could run and not ache, or when I still had my mom, or when I still had dreams and goals. Now I look at the world rush by, as I sit on the side of the road. The only time I catch up to anyone is when they crash or break down. ‘Forced timeouts,’ I call them.”

He went on. “There are things, experiences, people even, that lock us into a time in our lives. It makes it easier to remember what it was like then after so much has changed. Our world moves on, but those things are locked in time. Like your old shoes.”

Jake pauses with that and lets his words drift through my mind. I was starting to think Jake was an important name for more reasons than I first assumed.

“I used to be 10,” I said, “and it was so much easier. Things made more sense to me, and now so much doesn’t. It was just me and my shoes. I just want to find them again.”

I wave goodbye to Jake as he pulls out of the repair shop parking lot. His is a name I will remember. My mom finishes speaking with the manager, working out the plan and cost of the repairs. It had taken so long for us to arrive that my dad is now able to swing by after finishing up at the office. My sister has been home for hours. I slide into the back seat next to a large garbage bag.

“Oh, just move that over, Honey. I forgot I still had that back there. I was supposed to drop it off at your cousin Ellie’s house last week,” explained Dad.

I stare at the bag as a thought begins to form. It is mixed with the story that Jake shared, the one about the bag of hand-me-downs he received from the people down the street from him. I untie the knot in the bag and peer inside. Just as I suspect, it is filled with clothes. My cousin is a few years younger than us, and since my younger brothers won’t be wearing my clothes, my parents often bag them up and drop them off for her to use. As I dig through the bag, I recognize shirts and dresses from years past. Some I remember liking, others I rarely wore.

Then my hand brushes against something hard under the stack of shorts. I have a rush of adrenaline as I reach in to grasp the item, pulling it into the light. “My old shoes!” I exclaim, apparently louder than intended, as my mom jumps at the sound.

“Yes, Honey, I put those in the giveaway bag months ago. You never wear them, and I don’t think they even fit you anymore,” explained Mom.

I hear her words, but they somehow don’t hit the mark she intends. Instead, I want to lash out, my anger stirred after such a difficult day. I am about to scream at her, tell her how she should never have thought to give away my favorite shoes, when something stops me.

I picture a 13-year old Jake, sitting in his room, playing. I used to be 10. I remember running to school in these shoes. I loved how I felt in them. They were mine, and the world made sense. But I’m not 10 anymore, just like Jake isn’t 13. Our worlds have grown, and for me 13 is scary, but it’s what I am. I need to stop looking for my old shoes, let someone else have them.

I slide them back in the bag and let it settle to the floorboard. “You’re right, I say to Mom. Ellie will love them. They are great shoes.”

After a few more minutes of driving, I ask, “Mom, can I go to a party next weekend? It’s a birthday party for my friend from Life Science class.”

“Probably,” says my mom. “What’s her name?” she asks.

“Shelby.”

#my writing #writeblr #short story #growing up #childhood memories #nostaligic #life lessons #life learning

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